


Ineffability of Being A Soulmate

by Aziraphales (arka_r)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Alternate Universe - Aziraphale Fell Instead of Crowley (Good Omens), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Canon-Typical Violence, Cohabitation, Crowley is Raphael, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gabriel is not a dick, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Islamic References, M/M, Mutual Pining, Worldbuilding, fantastic violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22296973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arka_r/pseuds/Aziraphales
Summary: When Raphael came into existence, when the Universe was still young, he knew nothing about anything. He knew nothing about the workings of the Universe, about his very existence. He did not have his life laid out before him, nor did he know about the Great Plan. Not yet, at least.But he knew one thing for certain: he had a Soulmate.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 202
Collections: Good Omens Big Bang 2019





	1. Mount Arafat (4004 BC)

**Author's Note:**

> for the Good Omens Big Bang.
> 
> special thanks to my beta and dear friend [Revasnaslan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revasnaslan), my artist partner [crowleyisms](https://crowleyisms.tumblr.com/), story coaches aeremaee and Michal, the whole GOBB mod team, and [aretia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aretia) for letting me ramble about this fic. seriously, this fic won't happen without you guys' help ;v;

When Raphael came into existence, when the Universe was still young, he knew nothing about anything. He knew nothing about the workings of the Universe, about his very existence. He did not have his life laid out before him, nor did he know about the Great Plan.  _ Not yet _ , at least. That would come up later.

But he knew one thing for certain: he had a Soulmate.

Everyone had a Soulmate. It was the greatest gift God had given to all of Her creation, whether they were an angel, a demon, or a human. A soulmate bond connected two beings down to their cores, the _very essence_ that made them _them_ , thus making it the most special connection they could ever have. It was the most wonderful, marvelous thing, _ineffable_ thing that someone could ever experience. Or so Raphael was told.

Here was the thing. Both angels and demons could sense another being’s soulmate. For angelic beings, this special ability would allow them to guide humanity to meet their Soulmate and be together with them for the rest of their lives. For demonic beings, this would allow them to tempt humanity away from their own Soulmate.

There were, of course, a handful of exceptions. For example, lower-ranked angels could not sense the soulmate bond of higher-ranked angels, and the same, he supposed, also applied to lower-ranked demons. 

Raphael’s fellow Archangels all knew who his Soulmate was. And while nobody gave him trouble with it, it was still troubling Raphael  _ greatly _ .

Here was another thing. Raphael’s Soulmate was not a fellow angel. No, they were a Fallen one, previously known as Aziraphale, Former Principality, and Guardian of the Eastern Gate. 

Now, Raphael considered himself faithful — all the Archangels did; it was their very purpose after all — but he couldn’t help but ask as he prayed. Why did She make his soulmate a demon? Demons were incapable of love, after all; they were  _ beyond _ love. It didn’t matter if Raphael’s love was limitless, or if their bond survived even the Fall.

What mattered was, how could it be possible for Raphael to love his Soulmate, when his Soulmate would be unable to reciprocate? 

And why couldn’t his Soulmate be a fellow angel? Was this a test of some sort? Of faith, perhaps? Was She testing him to see if he was faithful to Her? To see if he would choose Her over his own Soulmate? How could it be the greatest gift if it was also a test?

Only silence answered him. Raphael swallowed, and supposed he should have just accepted it and moved on.

—

This story started like this.

It was a rather nice day when God cast out Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. Rain had fallen the night before, and the ground was still wet with dew. The fresh smell of spring was in the air, along with the fragrance of various flowers blooming, and the Earth was bursting with life. If you looked closely, you could see various little critters were abound.

In another universe, Adam and Eve went out together, braving the world hand in hand. In this one, God made them land in separate places, with only their Soulmate bond and their faith to guide them through. Once they were able to meet, God would forgive them of their sins for eating the Forbidden Fruit and teach them how to cultivate the land.

Raphael went down from the stars, his void-like robe billowing behind him as he landed on the top of an outcropping rock on Mount Arafat. 

It was foretold that this was the place where Adam and Eve would reunite, and Raphael was honestly curious if the two humans could find each other again. He had been considering to intervene if they were unable to reunite. After all, Eve had been pregnant when she was separated from her Soulmate. Raphael thought that would be rather bad if she had no one to help her through the birth. As an Archangel of Healing, it was his duty to help the humans however he could.

Raphael waited several days on the top of Mount Arafat, but both humans were still absent. They were only a few days away from Eve’s parturition, he counted, and if Adam couldn’t make it in time for it… 

Raphael was ready to find her, to help her however he could. Six pure white wings stretched behind him as he was ready to take flight, but then, two dots approached from the distance from the opposing directions.

Adam arrived first, barrelling towards Eve, who had difficulties moving from how heavy with children she was. The two humans met in the middle, and Raphael watched as they hugged and kissed, clearly happy that they found each other again. 

They had not noticed a leucistic crow flying away from them, but Raphael did. The crow flew over to him, before morphing into the shape of a plump man with the whitest hair Raphael had ever seen. He was dressed in an icy grey garb that reminded Raphael of the coldest of winters. His wings were grey too, with black tips. Such an unusual color, and very different to Raphael’s own white wings.

Raphael immediately knew who the man—or rather, the  _ demon _ —was.

“That was kind of you, Aziraphale”, he said to his Soulmate.

Aziraphale’s face went through several conflicting emotions in short order as he sputtered. Raphael waited patiently until his Soulmate was done fussing and sputtering, a small smile on his lips.

“First of all, I am a demon. I am not  _ kind _ ”, the demon said, finally. “Second of all, my name is not—”

“Aziraphale?” Raphael tilted his head. “It is what you are.”

“It is what I  _ was _ ”, Aziraphale countered.

“Then who are you, now?” Raphael asked, genuinely curious. He genuinely wanted to know more about his Soulmate, and he didn’t want to offend him by calling him the wrong name.

His Soulmate opened his mouth once and closed it, then opening his mouth again. “Demons call me Crowy. Very offensively uncreative, I tell you.”

“Crowy”, Raphael repeated, testing the name on his tongue, but it only caused Azi— Crowy— to frown.

“ _ Ugh _ , fine. I don’t mind you calling me Aziraphale”, he said, before muttering, “At least you’re not being  _ cruel  _ about it.”

“Cruel?” Raphael asked.

“Some angels remember who I was. They’re not… being really nice about it”, Aziraphale-the-Demon answered, crossing his arms as if he was trying to protect himself.

“Oh”, Raphael wondered if he should find these angels and give them a very stern talking-to.

“You’re not thinking to find them, are you?” Aziraphale asked all of a sudden, and Raphael jolted in surprise.

“What? No way, no. Why would I want to do that?” Raphael asked, lying through his teeth.

“Hmph”, Aziraphale harrumphed. “It’s fine, you see. I’m a demon. I suppose I have to get used to it.”

“Well, you shouldn’t”, Raphael countered. “Get used to people being cruel to you, I mean.”

“I’m a  _ demon _ ”, Aziraphale repeated.

“I’m aware of that”, Raphael returned.

“If you say so.”

Satisfied, Raphael gave his Soulmate a cheerful grin. Aziraphale smiled in return, if somewhat awkwardly, before turning his attention back to Adam and Eve, who were still locked in an embrace. Raphael used the distraction to study his Soulmate up close and personal. This was the first time they had met, after all.

Now, obviously he didn’t know about every single angel that God had ever created, but he knew about Aziraphale—about who he was before his Fall, that was. They never met,  _ Before _ , but Raphael had taken the liberty to snoop into the Fallen angel’s file, just to gather a little bit of knowledge about his Soulmate. From the file, he knew that his Soulmate used to be the Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden, the one who wielded a flaming sword. He Fell a little bit later, after Lucifer and the other demons did. There reason why he Fell was redacted.

And speaking of flaming sword— “What happened to it? Your flaming sword”, Raphael asked. “Lost it already?”

Instead of answering, Aziraphale pointedly looked away, and Raphael could see his wings twitched in nervousness. 

Something ugly stirred in Raphael’s stomach at the thought of Aziraphale giving his flaming sword to the horde of Hell, but he banished it away. He wouldn’t judge his Soulmate just because of who he was, not on their first meeting. Preferably not  _ ever _ . He wanted to give his Soulmate a chance, after all. He wanted this to work.

Perhaps then, God’s Plan for him would reveal itself to him.

“G-Gave it away”, Aziraphale muttered, and looked at anywhere  _ but _ Raphael.

Raphael blinked once, then twice. “You  _ what? _ ”

“I gave it away!” Aziraphale half-shouted as he finally turned to Raphael, distress clear in his face and voice. “There are vicious animals out here, it was cold, and she was expecting! So I said, ‘Here you go. Flaming sword. Don't thank me and don't let the sun go down on you here.’”

Raphael was about to say something, but Aziraphale was not done ranting yet.

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, you see. Next thing I know, I was hurtling downwards into pits of boiling sulphur and lava, with my wings burning behind me” Aziraphale turned away once again, his whole body tense. “Now, stop asking me about it! I did not like to talk about things that caused me to Fall.”

Raphael stared, unable to tear his eyes from this demon—this wonderful, enigmatic being who was his Soulmate. This was no normal demon, he realized.

Other demons Fell due to selfish reasons, Raphael was told, but this demon… this Fallen angel, his kindness caused him to Fall. And Raphael felt… not pity. Actually, Raphael couldn’t quite put his fingers on the emotions that he was currently feeling. Was it sadness, perhaps? Or was it anger? If so, directed at whom?

“You shouldn’t have Fallen for that”, Raphael blurted before he could stop himself.

“Obviously, it was not my decision”, Aziraphale said as he straightened up, indignation in his voice. His eyes—odd black sclera with the lightest blue irises so light they could be mistaken as white—once again turned toward Raphael. “And what are you doing down here? I thought you’d be far away, creating stars, or whatever it is that you do.”

Raphael welcomed the change of topic, as it clearly caused Aziraphale distress.

“Just wanted to check up on them”, Raphael twitched his head to Adam and Eve’s direction, who was now done hugging each other and began walking away together. Only now he noticed the sword in Adam’s hand.  _ Huh…  _

“I… see”, Aziraphale returned, with a wan smile on his lips. “Too bad that they were cast out. Makes you wonder what God’s really planning.”

“It’s all part of the Great Plan, supposedly”, Raphael eyed the demon next to him.

“Ah yes. Not for us to understand, yadda yadda”, Aziraphale spat the words like it was a bitter fruit. “You could say that it is  _ ineffable _ .”

“The Great Plan is ineffable?” Raphael raised his eyebrows at the demon.

“Probably”, Aziraphale turned to face him again. “Not that I care about that anymore.”

Raphael hummed, and silence fell between them.

“Are you not going to accuse this is my doing?” Aziraphale asked all of the sudden, breaking the silence. His hand gesturing at the two dots in the distance that was Adam and Eve.

“What—? Oh.” Raphael shrugged. “No, no. I mean, the timeline did not match, did it? You Fell after they were cast out.”

Aziraphale eyed him intently, as if trying to discern if he was lying. Raphael gave him a calm, serene smile.

“Stop that”, Aziraphale turned away once again.

“Stop what?” Raphael asked, tilting his head.

“This. You.” Aziraphale gestured toward him. “You’re not what I expected”

“Oh”, Raphael blinked. “You’re not what I expected either.”

And that was the truth, wasn’t it? Whatever expectation he had was dashed when he saw the crow guiding Eve towards Adam. Whatever his intention was, it didn’t matter — all that mattered was now Eve would have her Soulmate helping her through her childbirth.

Aziraphale made a quiet ‘tsk’ noise, before asking, “Well, what did you expect?”

“First of all, I expected you to reject me outright”, Raphael answered. “Isn’t that what your lot do?”

Aziraphale let out a dry laugh. “My  _ lot? _ ”

“Your kind, the demons”, Raphael said quickly, not wanting to offend his Soulmate. “It’s just… I heard that some demons refuse to fall in love with their own Soulmate as an act of rebellion against God, even if their own Soulmate was another demon.”

“Not all”, Aziraphale tutted. “Those who have an angel for soulmate are allowed to pursue the relationship, as long as they’re tempting them away from Her Grace. Something about the Greatest Temptation or something.”

“Is that what you’re going to do?” Raphael couldn’t help but ask. “Are you going to tempt me away from Her Grace?”

Aziraphale let out an appraising hum, before eyeing Raphael from head to heels. There was something in those icy blue eyes that Raphael couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was gone the next time Aziraphale blinked.

“Not now, perhaps”, he said, smacking his lips, before looking up.

Above, rain clouds gathered over their heads, and Raphael was surprised when Aziraphale’s grey wing stretched above his head, protecting him from the fallen droplets from Heaven.

Raphael decided he very much liked rain.

— 

Later, Raphael sat in the midst of a nebula he just had created. Colorful gas swirled around him like paint on water. It swirled, and swirled, and swirled.

The meeting with Aziraphale… had not gone the way he expected it to.

Actually, everything had not gone the way he expected it to. He hadn’t been expecting Aziraphale to be so…  _ kind _ ; an attribute that should never match the demon’s, well…  _ demonic  _ nature. He hadn’t been expecting Aziraphale to give his flaming sword away, causing him to Fall. He hadn't been expecting Aziraphale to guide Eve to Adam, or to approach him first.

And Raphael was still surprised at how  _ easy  _ it was to fall in love with his Soulmate. It was as easy as simply  _ being _ . Aziraphale’s kindness did it to him, he supposed. If this was indeed a test of faith,  _ well _ , he had totally failed it. 

“I don’t understand”, Raphael began to talk and looked Up. “Why did You make him Fall? He was just trying to help Your creation. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Isn’t it Your Love we’re supposed to share? Isn’t Your Love supposed to be limitless?”

And lastly— 

“Is this some kind of test for me? Did I fail it?”

There was no answer. There was no light. No sound. Only the colorful gas that swirled, and swirled, and swirled — just like his own feelings inside his chest.

Raphael swallowed his disappointment, and wondered what he was supposed to do.


	2. Mesopotamia (3004 BC)

The hallway of the Head Office (newly refurbished) was full of angels walking about, but they parted when Raphael strode by. He ignored their surprise, his stride purposeful as he was heading towards one particular room, the one with gilded door and decorative handle at the end of the hallway. 

Once he reached it, he threw the door open with a snap of his fingers and slammed it shut behind him. Inside, Gabriel looked startled behind his working desk and jumped onto his feet.

“Raphael, what—”

“Is that true, Gabriel?” Raphael interrupted his fellow Archangel, anger raging like a brightly burning neutron star inside his chest. “Is that true that we’re going to drown everyone? Wipe out the human race and the animal kingdom at the same time?”

He’d just heard about the rumour going around at the Head Office, and needless to say, surprised was rather an understatement to his current state of emotions. Enraged would be more fitting, and concerned was another. He just couldn’t believe the rumour, outrageous as it was, and he  _ desperately _ did not want to believe it to be true.

“Ah”, Gabriel’s face twisted with sorrow. “Well, you see—”

“Even the children? You **_can’t_** seriously think to drown the children?” Raphael interrupted him again, feeling his stomach sink at Gabriel’s reaction. So it was true, after all. It was true, and Raphael did not know what to think. His chest felt like it was close to bursting, and for a moment, he gasped for air that his lungs didn’t actually need.

“Now, now, calm yourself down before you, I don’t know, set the room on fire or something. I just got this room, you see”, Gabriel chided as he rushed to Raphael’s side. “If you let me finish, you’ll know that it’s all part of Her Plan.”

“She wouldn’t—” Raphael choked on his own voice, unable to continue, unable to  _ compute  _ the horribleness behind Gabriel’s words.

“It’s… Complicated”, Gabriel returned with a grimace.

“Then I’ll ask Her. Surely there’s something that we can—”

“NO!” This time, it was Gabriel’s turn to interrupt him. “Raphael, no. Seriously, calm down for a bit before you do something that you’ll regret. You can’t ask anything of the Lord Almighty, not now.”

“And why is that?” Raphael stared at the other Archangel dead in the eye.

“She is… a little bit tetchy, you could say”, Gabriel said with another grimace. “Big storm and all that. Reverse-creation. Wiping out the human race.”

“ _ Everyone? _ ” Raphael managed to choke out, his voice barely above whisper.

“Just, just the Mesopotamians, I think. I don’t think She has anything against the Chinese, or the Native Americans”, Gabriel smiled awkwardly. “See? You don’t have to worry, Raphael!”

“Oh I’ll worry as I please”, Raphael countered, before turning on his heels.

“Wait, where are you going?” Gabriel rushed to his side, and Raphael sped up his steps, just because.

“ _ Down _ ”, he answered curtly.

“Raphael, seriously, you can’t do— well, you can’t do whatever it is that you’re planning!” Gabriel grabbed Raphael’s forearm and forced him to stop. Raphael glared at the other Archangel, wishing that he could discorporate Gabriel on the spot.

“Oh, oh no. I know that look”, Gabriel winced and released his grip, his hands raised in surrendering gesture. “That’s a Look that said ‘Watch me’, so for once in your life, Raphael, I’m  _ begging  _ you, don’t do it.”

“She can’t drown everyone—”

“Just the Mesopotamians, Raphael!” Gabriel interrupted him, but Raphael was not done yet.

“There are  _ children  _ there, Gabriel!”

“And that is exactly the reason why She told Noah to build an Ark!” Gabriel half-shouted, and Raphael, for once, shut up. 

“An Ark?” Raphael was taken aback. 

“Yes! A very huge Ark!” Gabriel waved his hand as if trying to gesticulate how massive this Ark was supposed to be. “She’s not— She’s not going to Drown everyone  _ everyone _ . Just the ones who refused to listen to Her Words. After that, the Almighty’s promised that She won’t drown everyone again. Everything will be fine. Mostly.”

Of course.  _ Of course _ , She wouldn’t destroy them all. Raphael didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. All of a sudden, he was feeling really, really drained. And relieved.

So, he took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“Your concern is understandable. You are Her Healer, after all. It’s understandable that you are upset—believe me, it brought me no joy to relate the news to the humans too”, Gabriel said, kindly. 

“I trust you”, Raphael told Gabriel, and the two of them stood awkwardly side by side.

“Sorry that I yelled at you”, Gabriel said, breaking the silence. “I’m just—”

“Just?” Raphael eyed Gabriel.

“—Just concerned, is all”, Gabriel ended with a sigh. “About you. God’s tetchy and you were going to do something really stupid.”

“It’s not stupid—”

“What were you going to do? Storm Her Throne?” Gabriel interrupted impatiently. Raphael shut his mouth and frowned, and Gabriel used the chance to continue. “I’m just wondering. You’ve met your Soulmate, haven’t you? The demon named Crowy?”

Raphael winced. He didn’t know what to say about the sudden change of topic, but he wasn’t surprised that Gabriel  _ knew _ .

“And what about it?” he asked, almost too defensively than what he intended.

“I’m just…” Gabriel sighed. “Just, you know, I  _ get it _ . I’m probably the only one who gets about the circumstance of your… Soulmate Thing.”

“Soulmate Thing”, Raphael repeated.

“Having a demon for a Soulmate”, Gabriel returned, rolling his eyes. “Lord Almighty, do  _ not  _ make me say that again.  _ Nobody  _ can know.”

“Lord’s forbid”, Raphael hissed with as much sarcasm as he could put into his words.

“Has he, you know… tempted you? To question Things?” Gabriel asked. “Because, you know. He’s a demon and all.”

“Why does it matter that he’s a demon?” Raphael asked back. “Your Soulmate is a demon too!”

“Because they’re  _ beyond love _ , Raphael!” Gabriel replied with a groan. “There has to be a scheme, in some way, to tempt you. You need to be careful!”

“Oh, so I have to be more like you? Hiding in the Head Office, pretending my Soulmate doesn’t exist?” Anger rose once again inside Raphael’s chest. “Are you implying that I am that  _ naive? _ I’m a  _ fucking _ Archangel, Gabriel!”

“No! Yes! I don’t know!” Gabriel said with a groan. “It’s just… This attitude of yours is new, is all. You surprised me, and I  _ am  _ genuinely concerned about you, Raphael!”

“Elaborate.” Raphael raised up his chin. 

“You… are my brother”, Gabriel said with a firm nod of his head. “I don’t want you to Fall.”

Raphael was taken aback by the admission. He wasn’t expecting Gabriel to bring up  _ That _ .

“You think I’m going to  _ Fall? _ ” he asked.

“Lots of angels Fell for asking the Wrong questions”, Gabriel answered. “And. You know. I’m worried about you.”

It made Raphael pause. He knew that Gabriel could be rather insensitive at times, but he also knew that the other Archangel only wanted the best for his fellow angels, regardless of rank or hierarchy. Gabriel’s concern for him had to be genuine.

“I trust you”, Raphael said, finally. “So I’m asking you to return the favor.  _ Trust me _ , I won’t fall for the demon’s scheme, whatever it is.”

Gabriel was quiet as he mulled Raphael’s words over, but then he brightened up as he pulled Raphael into a tight embrace.

“I trust you, Raphael”, he said, and Raphael smiled along with his fellow Archangel.

—

The Ark was completed, the flood had arrived…

… and Raphael was weeping.

It was hard not to weep, not when he was surrounded by children; all clinging to his dark robe, as the dead floated around. Dead humans and dead animals. Death had to be busy, Raphael thought, tallying the dead and escorting them into the afterlife.

They gathered at a small island that used to be the top of a mountain, water lapping at their feet, and the children cried at their lost parents. At the sky, a rainbow appeared; a promise that She would never drown anyone ever again. But what did it matter? The children had lost their parents. Their lives were forever changed. And Raphael couldn’t help but question Her supposed kindness.

That was how it was being a mortal, wasn’t it? They were all so unaware of how short their lives were, how small they were, how fragile they were. They were completely at God’s mercy, and there was nothing anyone — even Raphael, an Archangel — could do except to lessen their suffering, however great it was.

But Raphael had been powerless this time. He felt as small and as fragile as the children he had saved.

“Oh dear”, a familiar voice broke him out of his haze. Raphael turned, only to see his Soulmate landed behind him and the children, his grey wings flapping behind him before they tucked inside the flap of his icy-grey robe.

“Hello, Aziraphale”, Raphael greeted tiredly as he wiped tears from his eyes. “Peace be upon you.”

Aziraphale tutted. “Now, now. Don’t be rude”, he said. “Seeing that you are sulking here, I presume that this whole ‘drown everyone’ thing is not your idea?”

“Obviously not”, Raphael grimaced. “I wasn’t even informed about it until I overheard about it back at the Head Office.” 

Aziraphale let out a ‘tsk’ noise. The two of them turned and gaze at the Ark, which floated peacefully in the distance. 

It was a humongous thing; it had to, so that it could carry Noah, his family, his followers, and certain animals. However, it was not large enough to carry many of the children, which was the reason why Raphael had miracled this particular mountain peak from drowning, so they had a safe place to stay until the water subsided. However long that would take.

“Right”, Aziraphale said. “This is the kind of thing you'd expect my lot to do, isn’t it.”

That was not a question, so Raphael didn’t bother to answer.

“Oh for Go— Sa— Someone’s sake, you’re so boring when you’re like this. Why don’t I cheer you up? No, you know what, I’ll cheer you all up!” the demon waved both his hands at Raphael and the children.

The children stared at him, some were still teary-eyed while some looked genuinely curious. Some finally released their grip on Raphael’s robe as they clambered up to their feet. Raphael sighed.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Aziraph—”

“Nu-uh-uh! I’m going to cheer you all up! This is not up for discussion!” Aziraphale wiggled, a genuine smile spread on his lips. “And don’t you be such a wet blanket, Raphael. Ha! Get it?  _ Wet _ . I promise, no tricks, no games! Unless it’ll make you all laugh, of course.”

Raphael stared at the plump demon and considered his options— which weren’t much, in hindsight. Still, he remembered his talk with Gabriel and wondered if this was part of the demon’s scheme.

However, Raphael knew the children would do well with distractions, and he couldn’t sense malice coming from the demon, which was surprising. Aziraphale had to be either very good at hiding his scheme, or he was actually genuine. The thought stirred something warm in Raphael’s chest. He hadn’t thought Aziraphale would care.

And so, he urged the children forward.

“It’s okay”, he reassured them, and slowly but surely, they formed a half-circle around the demon.

“Right”, the demon smiled, wide and bright. “Who’s up for some riddles? I know some!”

There was something odd about seeing a demon entertain a gaggle of children while the world around them was drowning and destroyed. It was rather ironic, he supposed, and just like their first meeting, it stirred up a whole lot of emotions that Raphael couldn’t quite put his finger on them. 

Perhaps he should have gotten used to this… not being able to name his emotions when he was around Aziraphale. 

There was love, obviously. As an angel, Raphael was a being of love. He loved everything and everyone, above the Earth and under the Heaven. The only exception, perhaps, was those who were beyond love. Who were beyond salvation. 

Like demons, for example.

But the love he felt towards Aziraphale was  _ different _ . Even though Aziraphale was a demon, even though he was beyond love, the love that Raphael felt toward Aziraphale was so strong, so vivid, so vast and indescribable, that one could say that it was ineffable. 

Was this the ineffability of being a Soulmate? 

Honestly, Raphael didn’t know. But he was willing to give Aziraphale a chance.

  
And then, perhaps,  _ perhaps _ , it would prove to Gabriel that nobody was beyond love—even demons.


	3. Arabian Peninsula (3000-2025 BC)

After the Flood, Raphael had asked, even  _ insisted _ , that she should be placed on Earth. She was the Archangel of Healing, after all, so it was only her duty to ease the sufferings of humans, however she could.

Once she got there, she found that humanity had prospered and thrived as they multiplied. They built cities and civilizations that Raphael had never seen before. They invented technologies beyond imagination (they had  _ carts! _ ) and Raphael was… rather impressed. For beings whose lives were so short, they sure managed to achieve great feats.

But, of course, nothing was ever perfect for humanity. Conflicts between humans happened all the time. War and Famine and Pestilence were around, while Death was waiting, lurking. As a result, the humans had the sick, the weak, the disabled, and the injured no matter where Raphael went, and that was where she came in. 

She healed them when she could and eased their suffering when she couldn’t. For the first time since she had created the stars, she felt… like she belonged. This was what she was meant to do, and she was happy to do her duties.

However, humanity, as it turned out, would form cults wherever they converged; and one of them had been created thanks to Raphael’s divine intervention after she cured a whole city of a plague. She was exalted as a Mother Goddess, of all things. She had received a rather stern warning from Gabriel about it, which had been rather embarrassing for them both. 

She learned to be careful, after that, to keep a low profile whenever she went. 

There were no more cults formed in her name. At least, none that she knew of.

— 

After awhile, Raphael found that having a corporeal form was rather inconvenient. Her body didn’t have the same limitations that human’s body did, but it still had limitations nonetheless. She didn’t need to eat or drink, but she found that she had to rest after performing too many miracles. She didn’t need to sleep either, but after finding that it was rather rejuvenating, she began to do it on occasion when she was feeling too drained to move.

Now, she was doing just that. The lodge she was currently staying at was rather quaint. It was a roof above her head, at the very least, and she had performed a small miracle to make her bedding bug-free. She slept for weeks, resting and recharging her core, and when she woke up…

… when she woke up, she found Aziraphale, sitting by her bedding as he read a scroll of some sort.

He still hadn’t noticed that she was awake, so she used the moment to observe the demon. He wore sand-colored loose garb — a contrast to Raphael’s dark red clothes — and his wild white hair rivaled Raphael’s own long, curly locks, which was currently unbraided. He looked so deep in thought, his eyebrows furrowing and his eyes moving slightly as he read. Occasionally, he would rub his chin contemplatively.

“Enjoying the view?” Aziraphale asked all of a sudden, without even looking up from his scroll.

“What view?” Raphael countered, blinking her eyes innocently at him.

Aziraphale huffed, before carefully setting aside the scroll in his hands. His face was lined with crinkles, and Raphael could practically feel upset and concern radiating from him.

“You need to stop doing this”, he said, and Raphael blinked in earnest confusion.

“Doing what?” she asked back.

“This whole—” Aziraphale gestured towards her. “—Exhausting yourself. Did you know that our bond allows me to feel your core? Because I didn’t. When your core diminished, it hit me like a charging rhino.”

Raphael blinked again.

“I thought something had happened to you”, Aziraphale said, ended, and there was warmth in his voice and in Raphael’s chest. She sat up and stared at Aziraphale’s icy blue eyes.

“Were you… worried about me?” she asked.

Aziraphale sputtered, and his face went through several emotions all at once. “Wh— Hell, no! Why would I— That is  _ preposterous! _ ”

“You were, weren’t you?” Raphael teased, grinning.

Aziraphale mumbled something unintelligible, but he didn’t answer. Raphael chortled and placed her hand on the top of Aziraphale’s, watching as his face turn into a lovely shade of red. This close, Raphael too could feel their bond; it pulsed like a heartbeat somewhere at the center of her chest cavity. How could Raphael not sense it before? 

There were so many things she still had to learn about this whole Soulmate thing.

“Thank you”, Raphael said. “For your concern. I am fine now.”

“Well, obviously, since  _ someone _ had to pour their own energy into your core”, Aziraphale tutted. “Otherwise you would be out for much, much longer.”

“Oh.” Raphael didn’t know what to say.

Aziraphale then pulled his hand away from hers and stood up. Regret began to form in Raphael’s throat, and she was about to apologize, when Aziraphale turned his kind face back to her.

“Come with me. There’s something you absolutely need to see”, he said.

“Oh?”

The thing that Aziraphale wanted her to see, as it turned out, was an idol of  _ her _ . It stood in the middle of the city like a lone guard. It had to come from the Cult and Raphael let out a long-suffering groan, Gabriel’s missive flashed in her mind’s eyes.

“Burn it,  _ please _ ”, she begged.

“Mmm, I think I rather liked this one”, Aziraphale said with a shit-eating grin. “They managed to capture your strong cheekbones well. Oh, and your pretty curls too.”

“I’m not listening, I’m not here”, Raphael turned away and placed her hand on her temples, massaging them as headache began to form in her skull. Had Aziraphale seen many of her likeness before? He had to, if he had a preference.

This was so  _ embarrassing _ .

“Oh well, pity that you hate it so”, Aziraphale said. “Because I’m keeping it.”

With a snap of his fingers, the statue disappeared, much to Raphael’s relief. At least the statue was now out of the public's eyes, so that was one thing she had to worry about. She really needed to be more cautious about using her miracles. Especially now that she knew they had detrimental effect to herself.

She and Aziraphale traveled together after that, going from place to place and occasionally staying somewhere populated so Raphael could do her duties. There were always people to heal, but Aziraphale prevented her from pushing herself to the limit.

During their travel, Raphael learned a whole lot about her Soulmate. For example, the demon didn’t seem to do a lot of demonic activity. Even Raphael who hadn’t seen a lot of demons in her travel knew that this was rather uncommon. She wondered if he was doing it out of courtesy for her, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

She also learned that Aziraphale enjoyed the pleasure of eating. Raphael found that eating was a rather gruesome process, what with the whole killing living creatures for consumption. Their corporeal form didn’t require it, but Aziraphale seemed to enjoy it immensely. 

“Are you sure you don’t want some? This lamb is quite delectable”, Aziraphale said, before popping a morsel into his mouth. Raphael held back from wincing.

“No, I think… I’d rather not”, she said. “It was…  _ alive _ , just a few hours ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you rather have something that’s still alive?” Aziraphale asked, clearly holding back laughter, and Raphael felt  _ sick _ .

“No, no. I’m fine”, she returned quickly.

Aziraphale laughed, but not unkindly. He still continued to eat the lamb, however, and Raphael supposed this was her turn to compromise. If Aziraphale was willing to tolerate her by not performing demonic activity while he was in her presence, then Raphael was willing to tolerate him and his eating.

Raphael was surprised to find out how easy it was, staying with Aziraphale and tolerating his peculiarity. They exchanged jokes and bantered as if they were the oldest of friends, and they would always stay within an arm reach from one another. Was it because they were Soulmates? 

Raphael couldn’t imagine doing this with his fellow Archangels — yes, even with Gabriel, who she was the closest with. Raphael loved her fellow Archangels, she really did, but they could be rather… stuffy, at times.

But with Aziraphale… there was simply no awkwardness between them. It was odd, but Raphael couldn’t bring herself to care.

This was Aziraphale, after all. This was her Soulmate. 

And she trusted him.

— 

They continued their travel, crossed the sea, and reached a place called Canaan several months later, only to find that the place had been laid to waste.

“ _ Famine _ ”, Raphael hissed. This had to be  _ his _ doing. The Horsepeople of the Apocalypse had been rather busy as of late, even though the Apocalypse wouldn’t come in four to five thousand years into the future.

Locusts had attacked the crops, causing a severe shortage of food, and the people went hungry as a result. Those who refused to leave (or were simply unable to leave) were starving, their bodies bone-thin. The dead laid littered across the ground, and nothing but flies and maggots dared to touch them. 

Raphael felt an itch on her fingers to do something,  _ anything _ . She was Lord’s Healer; it was only her duty to ease the sufferings of humans.

“Let’s go”, Aziraphale pulled her away. Raphael followed him, still shell-shocked. 

She wept and wept, until they stopped a few distance away from the famine-ridden region. Her nose felt stuffy and her eyes were swollen from how much she cried. She felt absolutely awful, both inside and outside.

“There’s nothing that we can do”, Aziraphale said. His hand was gentle when he placed it on her shoulder.

“There’s  _ something _ that I should be able to do”, Raphael countered. “I’m the Archangel of Healing.”

“Exactly. You  _ heal _ people, not… freeing a whole region from their suffering”, Aziraphale returned. “You are no God.”

“Why? Why did She make them suffer so much? Haven’t they suffered enough? Haven’t they been tested enough?” Raphael choked out, placing her hands on her face.

“You know that I can’t answer that for you”, she could hear Aziraphale say, his voice kind. “Can you open up your wings? I want to see you.”

_ Ah _ . Raphael hadn’t realized that she had materialized her wings. They cocooned her like a protective barrier around her. She shifted them away slightly and saw Aziraphale. Worry etched on his face and he offered a hand towards her, which she took.

“You’re wonderful”, Aziraphale said. “The most wonderful being I had ever seen. You are filled with kindness and love.”

“I’m an angel”, Raphael pointed out. “It’s what I do. It’s what I am.”

Aziraphale let out a small ‘tsk’. “Not all angels are like you. You’re different, even before”, he said. “Before I Fell, I mean.”

“We’ve met?” Raphael blinked. She wracked her brain, trying to find the memory of meeting a particular plump angel to no avail.

“Mmm”, Aziraphale hummed. “Once, I think. You were showing off the stars that you created to us lowly Principalities, but you, you’re without the arrogance other Archangels usually displayed. You were different, even back then. You were genuinely proud and excited about your creation.”

“… Oh.” Raphael didn’t know what to say.

“Rest now, my dear. Tomorrow will be a better day”, Aziraphale said.

Raphael laid down and closed her eyes. It was not until moments later she realized that he had called her ‘dear’.

—

Raphael slept for a few years, and when she woke up, it was to an empty space next to her and an immense loss filling her chest.

The sky was clear above her head, and a bird she did not recognize twittered on a tree branch she had slept underneath. It was a rather nice day, but Raphael couldn’t bring herself to enjoy it, so she laid back down and willed herself to sleep once again, wishing that Aziraphale would be there once she awakened.

She only managed to shut her eyes for a few days, when she heard a noise. It sounded like someone was crying, so Raphael woke up and began to search around.

It didn’t take her long until she found what she was looking for; an infant, laid across a blanket by itself. Its mother was nowhere to be found, but there were their belongings scattered around what looked like a simple camp. 

Gently, Raphael picked the infant up and began to cradle it. Immediately, she knew what was wrong— the infant was thirsty, and whoever came with it had left it to its own devices.  _ How cruel _ , she thought. She was considering to miracle up a water pouch when a shuffling noise came from behind her .

“Please release my son!” a voice called out to her, and Raphael turned to face a woman—the infant’s mother.

“You shouldn’t leave your son alone”, Raphael hissed out, her wings spreading out protectively. The mother’s eyes widened and she took a step backwards, but there was no fear in her face.

“Oh! Oh, thank God! God has not abandoned us, after all!” the mother cried.

In that very moment, a Revelation came to Raphael in flashes. The mother was Hagar, a wife of Abraham, one of God’s prophets. She and her son were left alone on this uncultivated land as a test of their faith. It didn’t take long for them to go thirsty, and thus Hagar had gone back and forth between two hills in search of water. That was when Raphael stumbled upon them.

As the flashes stopped abruptly, Raphael blinked her eyes several times to clear her vision, before facing the mother once again.

“Right”, she croaked out, clearing her throat. “God has not abandoned you. She heard your son’s crying, and will provide you with water.”

The miracle God had instructed Raphael to do went like this: an untapped reserve of underground water was to be brought closer to the surface, so when Raphael set the infant’s feet on the ground, water burst out of the indentation on the sand. A wellspring came to life within minutes, and Raphael had to pluck the infant away so he wouldn’t drown. Meanwhile, the mother hadn’t stopped singing praises to God.

“Here’s your son”, Raphael handed the infant to the mother, who stared at her teary-eyed. 

“Thank you! Thank you very much!” the mother cried.

Raphael bid her and her son goodbye, before leaving the new oasis in search for a place to crash. 

She was lightly swaying on her feet. The miracle she performed, bringing the underground water reserve closer to the surface, had severely exhausted her, even though she had used energy from Above. 

Finally, after two days of walking, she found a tree to lie down underneath, and she fell face first into the sand. She didn’t dream, but she wished that she did — she wished she dreamed about icy blue eyes, soft and filled with concern.

She found herself missing Aziraphale very much.


	4. Canaan (2020-2005 BC)

When he woke up several years later — several years later than he had intended — the sun was beginning to set in the horizon. The sky was painted in red and purple hues, and the clouds looked like they had been swept by winds. 

However, the first thing Raphael saw was Aziraphale, staring down at him.

“I am rather put out with you right now”, was the first thing Aziraphale said, frowning heavily as he did. His movement was stiff, and he didn’t sway like he usually did when he was with Raphael.

_ Great _ , Raphael thought. Now he had to deal with an angry demon.

“Peace be upon you, too”, Raphael returned as he rubbed sleep away from his face. He sat up and sighed, patting the dark red robe he wore from dust that had settled while he slept.

Aziraphale grumbled under his breath, before turning to Raphael.

“What did you do this time? Raise an army of the dead? Cure the whole nation from a plague? Stop one of the Horsepeople of the Apocalypse?” he asked, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. Raphael wasn’t exactly in the confrontational mood, so he sighed again.

“Stop being so upset. It wasn’t that bad”, Raphael countered.

“It wasn’t—!” Aziraphale seemed like he was physically restraining himself from strangling Raphael, before fixing his icy blue eyes towards Raphael. “Your core was  _ so _ depleted, I practically could feel you slipping away from across the globe! I thought you had died!”

“Is that where you left me to? Across the globe?” Raphael asked, genuinely curious where Aziraphale had gone to.

“China, to be precise. And it was an order, if you must know”, Aziraphale answered, still frowning. “Lord Hastur wanted me and some other demons to do some major temptation there but — wait, don’t change the topic!”

“Alright, alright”, Raphael raised his hands in surrendering gesture. “You thought I died, but I didn’t. Stop fretting over it.”

“Stop fretting— Do you realize what you’re trying to say?!” Aziraphale threw his hands up into the air.

“I don’t! Contrary to popular belief, us angels are not mindreaders!” Raphael didn’t know why Aziraphale was throwing a fit about it. Sure, he had been really exhausted, but he was fine now. “And it’s not like I can do anything about it, seeing that it was an order from Above!”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that. Sorry for twisting myself into a knot from worry, Your Holiness”, Aziraphale said sarcastically. “And here I thought you would be using that pretty head of yours instead of following every order blindly.”

“Well, unlike you, I can’t just ignore orders, Mr. I-gave-my-flaming-sword-away”, Raphael pointed out with a grumble.

In that instant, Aziraphale shut his mouth with a click, his entire body went rigid, and Raphael  _ knew _ that he had said the wrong thing.

“Aziraphale, I didn’t—” he approached Aziraphale, but his Soulmate was moving away from him.

“My name is **_not_** Aziraphale”, Aziraph— Crowy said, before he, for the lack of a better word, sank into the ground.

Raphael stared at the empty spot in front of him where his Soulmate had been moments ago, still not believing his eyes about what just had happened.

Oh. Well, damn him.

— 

They hadn’t seen each other again for a couple years, and Raphael was  _ distraught _ . 

It wasn’t like he had nothing to do. He had his  _ duties _ , alright; people to heal, miracles to perform, prophets to visit. But it seemed like he couldn’t forget about his fight with Azira— Crow—  _ whatever _ . He couldn’t forget the horrible thing he said to his Soulmate, all because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut!

Even worse, he didn’t know how to find his Soulmate again to apologize. He tried to meditate, to feel the bond that connected their cores, but it wasn’t working. He didn’t know if it was because he was too inexperienced to feel their Soulmate bond, or if it was because his Soulmate was blocking him out. 

But could one block out the other like that? Maybe it was a demonic thing — Raphael remembered the rumors he heard about how demons could choose not to be with their Soulmate. Perhaps that was how they were able to block out their Soulmate like that. Perhaps Aziraph— Cro— his Soulmate finally decided that Raphael wasn’t worth the hassle, and blocked him out of their bond forever.

Had he really thrown out his only chance to be with his Soulmate?

The thought was… unsettling, to say the least. Soulmate bonds were the greatest Gift God had given to all of Her creation, and Raphael had thrown his down the drain. He wanted to cry, to rage on, but ultimately, he only had himself to blame. 

How could he be so stupid?

As an immortal, the passage of time  _ usually _ meant nothing to Raphael. But as the months turned into years, and there was no sign of his Soulmate, Raphael was beginning to feel like he was being stretched so thin. It was making him hard to think, and he felt like he was less connected to everything around him. There were moments when he felt like lying down under a tree somewhere and let the Earth claim him like he was a mortal.

But he continued on, traveling through what would be known as Arabian Peninsula as he healed people and performed miracles. Occasionally, he was tempted to exhaust himself — maybe then his Soulmate would come and scold him about using his miracles recklessly. But Raphael always backed out.

He’d rather eat his own heart out than making his Soulmate angry. 

Well…  _ angrier _ .

— 

A decade had passed since Raphael last saw Azi— Cr— his Soulmate.

He found that his travel felt more lonely without his Soulmate, and that he missed his Soulmate’s presence dearly. Sometimes, when he was exhausted from the travel, he would wonder what his Soulmate was doing, and where he had gone. Back to China, perhaps. To Lord Hastur or whatever his name was.

Raphael was tempted to drop everything here and follow his Soulmate to go to China. It was a huge place, though, and the prospect of trying to find his Soulmate in a place that huge while being blocked out by his Soulmate daunted him, but it was better than being separated from his Soulmate like this.

And surely there were still people to heal in China, right?

He promised that he would do it once he finished his business at Canaan. The place was still recovering from the famine a few years ago, and there were still a lot of people to help. Once he was done here, though, he would go to China and find his Soulmate, he promised to himself.

He was taking a nap under a tree, his eyes closed shut as he thought of icy blue eyes, when he heard someone calling his name. It was rather insistent, so Raphael opened his eyes blearily.

Standing over him were Gabriel and Michael. They appeared mostly human, save for their identical white wings spreading behind them. Gabriel’s hair was long and braided intricately behind his head, while Michael’s hair was tied in a simple bun on the top of her head. They were dressed in identical white flowing robes and hood.

“Peace be upon you, Gabriel, Michael”, Raphael greeted before he sat up and rubbed sleep away from his face. 

“Peace be upon you too, Raphael”, Gabriel returned. “Why are you… lying down under a tree?”

“I was resting”, answered Raphael, standing up as he patted his clothes off of the dusts. He really needed to stop sleeping on the sand. It always got into his hair.

Gabriel and Michael stared at one another, confusion clear on their face.

Raphael let out a sigh. “There must be something important if you two are here.”

“Indeed, Raphael”, Michael returned. “We are to meet with one of Lord’s Prophet and Messenger, named Abraham. I’m sure you have heard about him before.”

Abraham… the name rang a bell in Raphael’s head, before he remembered the miracle he performed that had caused the fight with his Soulmate.

“Ah, him”, Raphael hummed. “I helped his wife and son awhile back.”

“That was wonderful!” Michael praised, clapping her hand. “I have read that particular miracle from your reports, Raphael. That was rather impressive, creating a wellspring in the middle of a desert!”

“I read about that too”, Gabriel added, not wanting to be left out. “An instruction straight from the Lord Almighty Herself! And you performed it so well.”

For once in several miserable years after the fight with his Soulmate, Raphael felt warmth spreading in his chest. He smiled at his fellow Archangels. “Thank you. That… means a lot”, he said.

“Come now, brothers. We shall not make Abraham wait”, Michael said.

Well… there went his plan to go find his Soulmate.

“Of course”, Raphael said.

“Wait”, Gabriel called, giving Raphael a once-over. “First, can you change into something that’s less… unconventional?”

Raphael snapped his fingers and the colors of his robe changed from dark red into pure white to match the other Archangels’ robes. Satisfied, Gabriel gave him a nod, and the three of them began their journey on foot.

It made Raphael wonder why didn’t they use miracles to get to Abraham’s encampment in Mamre, but he didn’t ask. They had to have their reason, or perhaps this was instructed by the Almighty. Not that Raphael knew what was instructed, of course, having stayed on Earth for as long as he did.

“So, how are you two doing?” he asked instead.

His question was met with a pair of confused looks.

“The Head Office is now fully functional”, Michael answered, still looking confused.

“Yes, but how are you two doing?” Raphael urged. “I haven’t been in the Head Office since Noah’s time. Allow me to catch up, will you?”

“We’re… doing well, I suppose”, Gabriel answered. “Head Office is rather… boring without you bursting into our offices, to show off your latest creations every now and then.”

“Aw, so you miss me”, Raphael teased.

“I do”, Gabriel returned. “I do, very much.”

“I do not”, Michael said at the same time.

Raphael and Gabriel gave Michael an identical Look, brows raising in doubt.

“Alright, I do”, Michael conceded. “It  _ is  _ rather boring in the Head Office without you, Raphael.”

Raphael smiled warmly at them.

They chatted as they walked — about the other Archangels and stuff like that. Gabriel and Michael were clearly not used to smalltalk, but they were doing well at indulging Raphael’s curiosity. Occasionally, they would slip and talk about gossips circulating at the Head Office, and Michael would talk about her own Soulmate, Uriel.

It made Raphael slightly jealous. Having a fellow Archangel as Soulmate sure would make things less complicated, he thought. However, Raphael truly couldn’t imagine having a Soulmate that wasn’t Aziraphale. 

Thinking about Aziraphale made him miss his Soulmate dearly, but he didn’t want to bring it up to his fellow Archangels. He wasn’t sure that Michael would understand — she usually didn’t care much about anything related to demons, unless it was to thwart them. And Gabriel… well, Gabriel would rather think that his Soulmate did not exist, if possible. It made Raphael feel… kind of sad, that he had no one to talk about his Soulmate aside from his own Soulmate.

His maudlin mood continued as they walked onwards. If Gabriel and Michael noticed it, they didn’t say anything about it. However, he noticed that they tried to lift his spirits up by telling him various gossips from the Head Office, and Raphael was… touched.

He really was grateful for their presence, and so he made a mental note to thank them once their mission was over.

It took them a week to reach an encampment in Mamre. The sun was high above their head, and they found Abraham sitting under the tree outside his tent as the man was trying to cool down from the heat. When Abraham’s eyes found them, he ran towards Raphael and his fellow Archangels, and bowed to greet them.

“Peace be upon you, Abraham”, Michael greeted first, and Gabriel and Raphael repeated her greeting. “We are here to deliver you words of our Lord.”

“Welcome, welcome”, Abraham said. “May I offer you to wash your feet and serve you with morsels of bread? Reaching this place can be rough, I understand, and it’s the least I can do for the three of you.”

“We don’t—” Raphael started, but Michael shut him up with a glare.

“We accept your offers, Abraham. Some breads would be nice”, she answered. Raphael glanced at Gabriel, who was trying hard to hide his grimace. Ah, so Gabriel found the prospect of ingesting food to be repulsive too. He wasn’t alone in their suffering, at least.

The three of them sat under a tree, where Abraham washed their feet and provided them with bread. Raphael and Gabriel hesitated for a moment, but had no choice but to ingest the food out of hospitality. It wouldn’t do for them to offend the Lord’s Prophet and Messenger.

Satisfied, Abraham then rushed to one of the tents, calling for a feast. One of his wives met him halfway through, and Raphael frowned as he suddenly remembered about Abraham’s other wife, Hagar, who had been abandoned at the desert with their son. They had been so thirsty that Raphael had to miracle up an oasis for them to survive; and yet, Abraham and his people were surrounded with food and luxuries.

Raphael wondered if he should ask Abraham about it, but eventually decided against it.

As food and drinks were served, Raphael began to work his miracle to heal Abraham, while Gabriel and Michael sat before the Prophet. Gabriel then relayed news about Sodom and Lot, while Michael gave the good news that Abraham’s wife, Sarah, that she would bear a child in one year’s time. Raphael listened with half an ear as his fellow Archangels and the prophet talked, and—

— that was when Raphael felt it, a pain so sharp it felt like his core was being struck by a lightning.

The pain radiated from the  _ other _ end of his Soulmate bond. It twisted and tugged at him, forcing him down to his knees and causing him to black out momentarily. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to his core and the bond that connected it to Aziraphale’s core.

“ — phael? Raphael?” Gabriel’s voice sounded so far away as Raphael returned to his senses. From the corner of his eyes, he saw that Michael was distracting the humans, while Gabriel knelt by his side. “Raphael, please. You’re scaring the humans.”

“I need— Aziraphale—” Raphael choked out. He felt it now, clear as day; Aziraphale was in danger. The block that obscured their bond was gone, and he knew exactly what to do and where to go.

With a snap of his fingers, Raphael dematerialized and followed the bond that connected their cores.


	5. Yangcheng (2005 BC)

To understand why Raphael could feel the pain that Aziraphale experienced, we have to understand first about the nature of Soulmate bond. As was explained before, Soulmate bonds tied the life force of two (or more) beings. For mortals, the bond connected their souls, hence why it was called ‘Soulmate’ in human languages.

For angelic and demonic beings, the bond forever connected the cores of their true forms, the one that was safely hidden underneath their corporeal form. That was the reason why a Soulmate bond was also called a core-bond amongst angelic and demonic beings. Because these cores were connected by an invisible link, one could sense when the other was in pain or in great distress. 

For mortals, one could sense when the other passed away. For angelic and demonic beings, one could sense when the other was discorporated or destroyed. It was a rather horrifying thing to feel, and Raphael had hoped he would never feel it within his long, immortal life.

One could also follow the bond to reach each other. It was how Adam and Eve managed to reunite after they were cast out from the Garden of Eden, at the beginning of this story. It was also how Aziraphale had found Raphael when he exhausted himself.

It made Raphael wonder, though, if the pain he felt was exactly how Aziraphale had felt when Raphael exhausted himself—not only once, but  _ twice _ . Aziraphale had described it like ‘being hit by a charging rhino’, and Raphael found the metaphor… rather accurate.

It made him feel bad for Aziraphale, and for being such an ass when Aziraphale was simply concerned about him and his wellbeing.

_ Well _ , Raphael thought, at least now he had a chance to apologize.

After he saved Aziraphale from whatever predicament he was in, of course.

— 

Raphael re-materialized in somewhere called Yangcheng and looked around. The room he was in was small and dark, with only a small, narrow window that allowed a sliver of moonlight to enter the room. Not that the darkness was any problem. He was used to work in the darkness of space, creating new stars and nebulas. The moonlight provided enough light, at least, to look around.

And what he saw in there would make his blood boil, if he had any blood inside his corporeal form.

At the center of the room, Aziraphale, dressed in odd white robe, was bound in ropes. He curled at the center of a circle made of twined ropes. They were not normal ropes, Raphael noted, as they glowed in unearthly blue light.

Humans, Raphael had found, had some understanding of how magic worked. Normally, he would have thought this was rather endearing, as he watched them fumble to perform correct magic. 

But now…  _ now  _ he wished he could wipe any memory about magic from their minds.

Aziraphale groaned in pain once, and Raphael was ready to release his holy wrath to whoever had caused this. But he turned his attention away from his Soulmate and faced men dressed in ornate layered robe. At his sudden appearance, they shouted in surprise and scurried back until their backs met with the wall.

“The man has summoned a ghost! It’s true, then, that he is cursed!” one of them spoke, shaking like a leaf.

“S-stupid! Do not speak in front of the ghost, lest we draw its gaze!” another chided.

“Oh, you lot most certainly drew my gaze, alright”, Raphael growled as he took a step forward, his wings and halo materializing as he did and flooding the room with his radiance.

“Begone, ghost! You will cause the Great Flood no more!!” one of the men brandished a sword that looked more ceremonial than it was functional. Raphael rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, turning the sword into a lotus flower.

Another snap of his fingers, he released Aziraphale from his bindings and bound the men with the ropes. Just as he expected, the ropes ceased to glow; which meant that the ropes were only harmful for non-human beings. Satisfied, he turned back to Aziraphale, who was still lying down face first on the floor.

He knelt on Aziraphale’s side and cradled him with one arm. He began to assess the damage done to his corporeal form. It seemed that his injuries were not fatal, only a couple bruises that could be healed easily. However, the ropes had caused slight damage to Aziraphale’s demonic core. That would be bad… probably. 

He didn’t know what the men had done to Aziraphale, but it seemed like they were trying to exorcise him, in a way. Their power wasn’t enough, however, and it only caused him mild injury. If they were any more competent… Raphael shuddered. That would cause lasting damage to Aziraphale’s core, and he couldn’t let  _ that _ happen.

Now, Raphael didn’t know if his powers would work to heal Aziraphale. He’d never done this before, healing someone of angelic stock. Usually, it was mortals; humans and animals alike.

But like  _ Heavens _ he wasn’t going to try. 

Invoking God’s name, he pulled out healing energy from Above, before pressing it to Aziraphale’s chest. Much to his surprise, Aziraphale’s eyes flew open and he let out a blood curdling scream. Raphael’s hand sizzled as if it was burning into the robe that Aziraphale wore, and Raphael grit his teeth as the pain rebounded to his own core.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry”, Raphael murmured, before he cancelled the invocation. Aziraphale’s eyes fell shut and he went limp and quiet once again.

Raphael released a sigh, before cursing at himself.

_ Stupid! _ He had invoked God’s name and used Heavenly force to heal a  _ demon _ . Of course Aziraphale would be in pain!

Taking a deep breath, Raphael tried once again, this time drawing energy from his own core. His hand glowed golden, and blessedly, Aziraphale did not seem to be in pain. He continued pouring the healing energy and mended the damage to Aziraphale’s core. It was slow work, but it worked.

Thank the Heavens.

Slowly, as if waking up from deep slumber, Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open. He let out a small groan, before shutting his eyes once again.

“I must be dreaming”, he whispered, almost too quietly for Raphael to hear.

Raphael let out an awkward chuckle. “Hello, Azi— I mean, Crowy.”

“Stop that”, his Soulmate said, half-whispered.

“I can’t stop healing you now”, Raphael returned. “You’re in a bad shape.”

“No, no, I mean—” his Soulmate winced and hissed out in pain, so Raphael had to slow down the healing process. “Stop calling me Crowy. Only Hell does.”

“Oh.” Raphael didn’t know what to say.

“But I’m not Aziraphale either”, Aziraphale said, before letting out breathless giggle, as if this whole situation was funny to him. “I’m… Azirafell. Get it? Because I  _ Fell _ .”

“That’s… a terrible joke, and you know it”, Raphael returned, fondness filling his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he missed Aziraphale’s terrible, terrible jokes.

Finally, Aziraphale’s core was fully healed, and Raphael turned to the damage his body had sustained. There was bruising all over, even on his Soulmate’s face. His cheek was swollen and one of his eyes was starting to turn black and blue.

“What in Heavens did they do to you?” Raphael asked, tamping down anger that was threatening to burn at his core.

“One of them saw me performing a demonic miracle. They were convinced I am… what’s the word?” Aziraphale scrunched his face adorably, before his face lit up. “Ah, yes.  _ Possessed _ . Apparently they thought whatever possessed me caused the Great Flood.”

“You  _ are  _ possessed!” one of the robed men shouted, and Raphael snapped his fingers impatiently to stuff their mouth with their own slippers. Then, he went back to healing Aziraphale’s bruises. 

Blessedly, it took less time than when he healed his core.

By the time he was done, a sliver of morning ray entered the room through the window. Raphael helped his Soulmate to stand up. Aziraphale’s legs were still wobbly from pain, so he offered his arm for Aziraphale to hold. 

Standing next to each other this close suddenly made Raphael nervous, and he swallowed thickly when Aziraphale’s odd eyes flicked towards him.

“I—” Raphael began, but Aziraphale blinked once and suddenly words were gone from Raphael’s mind.

“Can we get out of this place? It is rather… dreary, don’t you think?” Aziraphale said.

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Sure”, Raphael returned, and guided Aziraphale out of the building. It appeared to be a temple of some sort. No wonder Aziraphale had been in pain — the sacred ground had to hurt him.

It was early in the morning, so the street they walked through was empty. Houses made out of wood and hay lined it, and the two of them walked in silence, not wanting to attract more attention from the locals. Although occasionally, Aziraphale let out pained noises, as if the task of walking hurt him.

“Are you alright?” Raphael felt silly just for asking it. Aziraphale was clearly not alright, but the demon smiled wearily.

“Just… wasn’t expecting any mortal could hurt my core, my dear”, Aziraphale answered.

Raphael wasn’t expecting that too, and wondered if those humans could also hurt him.

They exited the village, passing through a pair of simple gates made out of bamboo stalks, which caused Aziraphale to shudder briefly.

“Protection spell on the gate”, he explained to Raphael, and Raphael would have been tempted to vandalize the gate if Aziraphale hadn’t been clutching his hand tight. 

The village they just exited sat atop a mountain. It was close to where the Yellow River had flooded the nearby valleys and swallowed down village after village, like some sort of a great beast. In the distance, Raphael could see wreckage caused by the flood, and Raphael shuddered.

This, he realized, was a place of tragedy.

“It was a rather lovely place before the Great Flood hit. Lots of rice fields. Rather picturesque, if I say so”, Aziraphale said, as they walked down the steps that would take them to the flooding valley. He sounded much more like himself, which was good. Great, even.

“Oh?” Raphael asked.

“Yes. You should’ve seen it”, Aziraphale answered. “Too bad it all had been destroyed.”

“This is not my lot’s doing”, Raphael said defensively.

“Oh I know”, Aziraphale returned with a sigh. “Because if it was, I would find your mopey ass somewhere around sooner.”

“I  _ did not _ mope”, Raphael pouted.

“You did”, Aziraphale pointed out.

“Did not”, Raphael argued.

“You did.”

The two of them sat on a rock that overlooked the drowned valley. Silence stretched between them as they watched the dark waters gurgling menacingly. It reminded Raphael vividly of the Flood at Mesopotamia, but he banished the thought quickly before he spiralled into a maudlin mood.

“You came for me”, Aziraphale said all of a sudden, breaking the silence. “I wasn’t sure you would, after…”

“After our fight?” Raphael asked. Aziraphale nodded, so Raphael continued. “I would never abandon you. Not when you’re in danger, no.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale went quiet again. Under the full moon, Raphael could see that his Soulmate’s face had turned into a lovely shade of red. Suddenly, he was feeling overwhelmed with the urge to press his hands on Aziraphale’s round cheeks.

But he didn’t know how Aziraphale would react to that, so he didn’t do it.

“I felt your pain”, Raphael said, instead. “It was… painful.”

Raphael very rarely felt any pain, if ever — and this was one of the first times he experienced it. It was… bizarre. It felt like he was going to be discorporated on the spot. He hadn’t realized that it would be so painful.

“Oh, that must be when the priests struck me with a spell”, Aziraphale returned. “I wasn’t expecting magic on this part of the world, really. They caught me off guard.”

“Bastards, the lot of them”, Raphael cursed under his breath, and suddenly he felt like going back to do more horrible things to the priests. If his arm wasn’t still in Aziraphale’s hand, he probably would do just that.

There was a short lived silence, before Raphael broke it with a question that had been filling his mind since he felt Aziraphale’s pain.

“When… I mean, when I was exhausting myself, was that how you felt?” he asked.

Aziraphale nodded quietly, and his finger rubbed circles on Raphael’s arm. Only then Raphael realized that they still hadn’t let go of each other. Not that Raphael was complaining— he rather liked the feeling of Aziraphale’s hand on his own.

“I’m sorry. I will—”

“Don’t”, Aziraphale interrupted. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I— I wouldn’t—” Raphael stuttered.

“I know you, my dear”, Aziraphale said kindly, and Raphael shut his mouth with a click. This was the second time Aziraphale had called him dear, and Raphael didn’t know what to say.

“I know that you would never abandon those who are in need. And I know that you would exhaust yourself a thousand times over”, Aziraphale continued. “It’s who you are. Not because you’re the Archangel of Healing, but because you can’t stand seeing other people suffering.”

Raphael was still at a loss for words. Aziraphale’s understanding of what he was, of  _ who _ he was, sent warm feelings that made his stomach fluttering with metaphorical butterflies. Once again, Raphael was completely astonished by how  _ massive _ the love he felt towards Aziraphale.

So he did what only felt natural to him.

He reached for Aziraphale’s hand and pressed kisses to his knuckles.

“You’re wonderful, you know that?” Raphael said, returned what Aziraphale had said when they had walked away from that famine-ridden region, a couple years ago. “The most wonderful being I had the privilege to meet, and I—”

“I’m a demon, I’m not wonderful”, Aziraphale interrupted, sadness in his voice. “I’m not like you.”

“You’re  _ wonderful _ ”, Raphael repeated,  _ insisted _ . “And I love you.”

Aziraphale smile sadly at him. “I’m afraid I don’t— I’m—”

“ _ I love you _ ”, Raphael repeated. “I do. I’m glad that we are Soulmates, because I can’t imagine my existence without you.”

“Oh,  _ Raphael _ ”, Aziraphale said, and Raphael thought he rather liked his name on Aziraphale’s lips.

This very close, his senses were enveloped with everything Aziraphale; his scent that was a mix of a warm hearth and a hint of sulfur, his demonic essence that radiated from him like a thick fog, and his love—his utter love and devotion towards Raphael. It was so vast, so all-consuming and all-encompassing. How could Raphael be so blind before? How could he not sense Aziraphale’s love towards him before?

“You go too fast for me, Raphael”, Aziraphale said, and just like that, Raphael’s world crashed down all around him.

“I… I don’t understand”, Raphael said, but Aziraphale had pulled his hand away. There was a different kind of pain that stabbed Raphael’s core.

“I need to go”, Aziraphale said as he stood up. “The, uh. The other demons are probably wondering where I went. And Lord Hastur too—”

“Oh. O-of course”, Raphael returned. “I, uh. I probably need to go too.”

“Okay”, Aziraphale said.

“Okay.”

When Aziraphale retreated from the rock they were sitting, suddenly Raphael felt very cold and very alone.


	6. Hattusa (1445 BC)

It was a rather nice day when Raphael worked at a bloomery, with the sun beating down his back and the breeze blew from Marassantiya River. Perfect day to smelt some iron.

Like he did was with any other human invention, Raphael was intrigued by the process of metalworking. It fascinated him that humans were capable of shaping hard metals like bronze and iron to their liking. Hence, when an opportunity arose for him to learn it, he took it excitedly. It would be neat if he were able to create some ironwares on his own.

Plus, he was  _ miraculously _ good at metalworking, and his wares always sold at a decent price. It was enough to pay for his lodging, his wines, and more. And, well… it wasn’t like Raphael had a lot of needs.

He wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, before removing the tiniest iron bloom from the furnace and began to work on it. He was so distracted with shaping the iron into a winged ring and adding details to each feather, when one of his coworkers approached him.

“That’s a nice one”, Hakipuili said as he looked over Raphael’s shoulder. “A gift?”

Raphael flustered. “Something like that.”

“For your Soulmate?” Hakipuili asked.

Raphael winced. “Something like that.”

It had been roughly five centuries since the last time he had seen Aziraphale; five centuries since that disastrous night under the moonlight by the bank of the Yellow River. With each passing year without any sign or sight of his Soulmate, Raphael wanted to either curl up and die or drink away his problems.

Too fast, Aziraphale had said. He was going  _ too fast _ .

That was ridiculous. They had known each other since the dawn of time. That was more than  _ two millennia _ ago. Raphael had seen people falling in love faster than they did during his travels.  _ Heavens _ , Adam and Eve were practically  _ made _ for each other.

Even so, Raphael could understand why Aziraphale had said it. They barely saw each other inbetween—the longest they were together was when they traveled to Canaan, and that was only for a couple months. It was practically  _ nothing _ for two immortal souls like them.

They barely knew each other.

“You’ve been around for a year or so, but I have never seen this Soulmate of yours”, Hakipuili said with a huff. “Do they even exist?”

“Yes”, Raphael answered, almost too defensively. “It’s… complicated.”

“Stop bothering Rafa’el, Hakipuili, and get back to work!” Zuzulli shouted from another bloomery next to Raphael’s, waving her bellows like they were a sword.

Hakipuili skulked back to his bloomery, muttering something that sounded like ‘witch’ to her. She heard it, as it turned out, and approached Hakipuili threateningly. Being larger than Hakipuili (larger than most humans Raphael had seen, actually), Zuzulli did what the youth in the very distant future would call a ‘power walk’, and Hakipuili wisely ran away from her wrath, fearing for his life.

“Prick”, Zuzulli huffed annoyedly. “People with Soulmates are so annoying, don’t you think?”

“Er—” Raphael didn’t know what to say.

Now, Raphael had been working at this forge for over than a year already, so he was quite familiar with his coworkers. For example, he knew that Hakipuili had just gotten married last week to the love of his life, his Soulmate and bride, Hatilka. Their wedding was lovely and modest, and Raphael had gifted them both with matching brooches in the shape of a serpent that he made himself.

“I think it’s lovely that he loves his Soul-bonded wife so much”, Raphael eventually said diplomatically.

“Doesn’t give him the right to rag on us Soulmate-less people”, Zuzulli returned snidely.

Zuzulli’s Soulmate had died two years ago, just a couple months before Raphael came to Hattusa. She inherited the forge from him, and had been running it ever since. 

“I’m not Soulmate-less”, Raphael argued. “It’s—”

“Complicated, I know”, Zuzulli said, patting Raphael’s shoulder gently. “You never told us much about them. Are they a he or a she?”

“Does it matter?” Raphael asked back.

“Hm”, Zuzulli hummed. “I guess it’s not.”

“It’s a he”, Raphael said with a sigh, as he admired his own handiwork. He liked to imagine that the wings were grey, like the wings of a certain someone.

“I knew it!” Zuzulli laughed as she punched the air. “Kulsata owes me three coins.”

“Wait—” Raphael was taken aback by her reaction. “You  _ knew? _ ”

“Straight men don’t wax poetics about other men— or I suppose in this case, a man— and how blue their eyes are while drunk, Rafa’el”, Zuzulli teased. “I know you are a foreigner, so you don’t know that we don’t really have a problem with that ‘round here. What does it matter who you’re Soul-bonded with? I’m not that religious, but Goddess Ishara knows best, I’m sure.”

“Sure”, Raphael returned with a smile. “Thanks, Zuzulli.”

“Right”, Zuzulli huffed fondly. “Now get back to work.”

—

Raphael had just finished his work and exited the forge when he, quite literally, bumped into Aziraphale.

“Oh. Oh, hi”, Raphael sputtered as he righted himself. “You— I didn’t know you’re in the town.”

“Just popped in for a quick temptation”, Aziraphale answered, his icy blue eyes were fixed on Raphael’s face, and Raphael couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. “You have— Hang on, let me—”

Without any warning, Aziraphale leaned in closer, and for a painstaking moment Raphael thought he was going in for a kiss. But no— he swiped his finger on Raphael’s forehead, before pulling away once again, leaving him breathless. The skin on his forehead where Aziraphale had touched felt tingly.

“There you go”, Aziraphale said, smiling. “You have soot on your forehead.”

“Ah, t-thanks”, Raphael stuttered. “I just, you know, got out of the forge. So it’s probably from there.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale made an inquisitive noise.

“Yeah, I was— I was making ironwares. Plates and stuff”, Raphael said, only now realizing how pathetic that sounded like. An archangel, working at the forge and doing manual labor like some kind of— some kind of  _ mortal? _ Not that there was anything wrong with being a mortal. But still. Raphael couldn’t help but feel a little bit self-conscious.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” Aziraphale brightened up, and Raphael blinked at the demon’s reaction. “You’ve been here for long, then?”

“Oh. Quite awhile”, Raphael answered with a shrug. And then, because he was feeling brave, he pulled out the ring he just finished. “It’s— Here. For you.”

“For me?” Aziraphale looked taken aback, but he accepted the ring in his hand and examined it. Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, and Raphael scuffed his foot on the ground.

_ Too fast. Too fast. Too fast. _

“Oh, this is so lovely! You made this yourself?” Aziraphale asked again, and put the ring on his little finger. It fit perfectly.

“S’not that hard”, Raphael mumbled and rubbed the back of his head.

The silence that stretched between them was awkward, and Raphael was seriously contemplating to fling himself into the stars. He didn’t want to go too fast for his Soulmate, nor did he want to make him uncomfortable. However, Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind the small gift, and Raphael was infinitely grateful for that.

“So, uh”, Raphael said. “Temptation?”

“Oh, yes. I hope you don’t mind— I really had no idea you’d be around”, Aziraphale said. “It’s just a minor one, I promise. Like making people stay in their bed for a bit longer than what they’re supposed to.”

“That’s…” Raphael blinked. “Very demonic of you.”

“You think so?” Aziraphale sounded unsure.

No, he didn’t think so. “Yes, I think so”, Raphael said instead. “Very inconveniencing.”

“Really?” Aziraphale’s smile brightened just for a little bit.

“Yeah. Imagine coming to the city hall to ask for help for your problems, only to find nobody’s there because they’re all still in bed”, Raphael said. “I’d be mad. Which is a Sin, right?”

“Oh. Oh thank you.” Aziraphale swayed on his feet happily. “I’ve been told that I’m rather bad at this whole temptation thing.”

Whoever told Aziraphale that was dead, Raphael swore.

“Nah, I think your methods are… unconventional”, he reassured Aziraphale. “So wait, why didn’t you want to do temptation when I’m around?”

“Well… You’re an angel”, Aziraphale answered as if it was the most obvious thing. “An Archangel, even. Isn’t that what you do? Thwart evil?”

“Aziraphale”, Raphael deadpanned. “I’m an angel of healing. I don’t ‘thwart evil’, as you kindly put.”

Aziraphale looked taken aback. “Wait, really?”

“Really”, Raphael lied. 

“Oh.”

Raphael huffed.

“Are you in town for long?” Raphael asked. “Because if so, let me tempt you to a spot of lunch.”

“ _ Tempt _ me?” Aziraphale blinked, a coy smile slowly spreading on his lips. “Does my ear deceive me? The Archangel Raphael is tempting me to Sin?”

“Lord, I’m going to regret this”, Raphael sighed.

Aziraphale  _ giggled _ . “Oh I’m sure you will.”

—

In the end, they sat by the Marassantiya River, eating  _ halvah  _ (Aziraphale) and drinking wine (Raphael). The restaurant they were eating was rather quaint, but it provided a nice view of Marassantiya River. Plus, there was wine, which Raphael sorely needed.

He was feeling less nervous with a drink in hand, but that didn’t stop him from fiddling with his cup and gripping it tight like it was a lifeline. Slowly, he sipped his drink while he watched Aziraphale eat.

“Oh, this is quite delicious. So thick and sweet”, Aziraphale moaned before popping another slice into his mouth. The comparison to Aziraphale, in Raphael’s opinion, was quite spot on. His Soulmate too was thick and sweet.

_ Lord, what was he thinking? _

Raphael chugged down his drink before asking for another.

He was on his third wine when he finally gathered up enough courage. Better do it now, he thought, before he did another stupid thing that he would forever regret.

“Liss— Listen, Aziraphale”, Raphael slurred. “I’ve, uh, been thinking.”

“Hmm?” Aziraphale hummed.

“Been thinking, if I wass— was too fast. Maybe that’s because we barely know each other”, Raphael said.

“Oh, my dear, I didn’t—” Aziraphale said, but Raphael was not done. He raised his palm to shush up Aziraphale and blessedly, it worked.

“I want to know you. And I want you to know me”, Raphael continued. “I want uss— us to get to know each other. Do you think that works for you?”

“I think you’re drunk, my dear”, Aziraphale said, his voice sad. Raphael decided he didn’t like when Aziraphale was sad.

“If I’m ss— sober, would you want to do that? To get know each other?”

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment as he stared at Raphael in the eye. Aziraphale’s eyes were so pretty. Like a pair of moons on the darkest night.

Fuck. Zuzulli was right. He  _ loved _ waxing poetics about Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Do it, then”, Aziraphale said. “I want to hear you.”

Raphael closed his eyes and did as he was told. He sobered up within seconds.

“I want to know you better”, Raphael said as he stared back at Aziraphale. “I’m… I love you, Aziraphale.”

“Oh, Raphael, my dear…” Aziraphale sighed, before reaching Raphael’s hand. Raphael’s eyes fell to the ring on his pinky. “I don’t— I’m a demon. I don’t  _ deserve  _ you.”

“We are core-bonded”, Raphael pointed out.

“The bond of which was created when I was still an angel”, Aziraphale said, bitter smile curling on his lips. “I don’t… I didn’t think you’d still want me, now. You’re one of the Most Holy, while I’m just a nobody demon.”

“God Almighty has a plan, I’m sure”, Raphael returned.

Aziraphale scoffed. “To be frank with you, I don’t give two shits about God’s plan.”

“Do you…” Raphael paused, hesitating. It seemed like they were treading a new, dangerous territory here, and Raphael didn’t know if he had to proceed or not.

“I don’t hate God, if that’s what you’re going to ask”, Aziraphale said with a sigh. “But I don’t know what Her plan is. I don’t… I  _ can’t _ be, and will never be, the reason for you to Fall.”

A jolt of surprise went through Raphael’s chest, and he was reminded by his talk with Gabriel, several millennia ago. Raphael thought it was… surprising, in a way that made him feel loved, that both Gabriel and Aziraphale had been concerned about him.

“You think I’m going to Fall? For falling for my own Soulmate?” he asked.

“I honestly don’t know”, Aziraphale answered, looking away for a moment, before turning back to Raphael. “Falling… You don’t deserve it. It’ll  _ destroy _ you. It did destroy me.”

Raphael tightened his grip on Aziraphale’s hand. He really had no idea that Aziraphale had been feeling that way. But still, he wanted this. If he were going to Fall for falling for his own Soulmate… well, there were worse reasons to Fall, Raphael supposed.

“I still want to know you better”, Raphael said. “If not as your Soulmate, then as your friend.”

“A… friend”, Aziraphale repeated the word slowly, as if the entire concept was so foreign to him. “I’m a demon. We… don’t have friends.”

“Really?” Raphael asked, genuinely curious. He was friends with his fellow Archangels, and now that he was staying on Earth full-time, he often found that he had missed them dearly.

“We don’t really… trust each other”, Aziraphale told him. “It’s not our way.”

“Huh”, Raphael didn’t know that. But then again he didn’t know a whole lot about being a demon. “Well, first time for everything? I can be your first friend.”

Finally, after awhile, a smile curled on Aziraphale’s lips.

“Yes, I think I’d rather like that”, he said. “Being friends, I mean.”

“To friendship?” Raphael raised his wine cup, and Aziraphale mirrored him.

“To friendship.”


	7. Yangtze Valley (1443 BC)

Morning rays hit Raphael’s eyes, waking them up from their sleep. 

As they opened their eyes, the first thing that they saw was Aziraphale, sleeping by their side. His long curly hair was spilling wildly over his face, and Raphael couldn’t resist themself. Gently, they swept the curls away from Aziraphale’s face, revealing his round face that looked so peaceful and beautiful as he slept. 

Raphael smiled to themself, before sliding off the bed and walked out of the house. 

The winter was coming, and the weather had turned from chilly to cold.

After their meeting at Hattusa, Raphael and Aziraphale had decided to travel back to China. This time, Aziraphale promised that the Great Flood had stopped and agriculture was flourishing. Plus, there was no war around, so it would be a perfect vacation for them both. Raphael wondered how Aziraphale knew about all this, but agreed to tag along. If they were being honest, they could use some vacation.

Overall, it took them both twenty months to reach China. They did it on foot (and occasionally on horseback), since Aziraphale did not want to draw Hell’s attention by using one of his demonic miracles to travel such a great distance. Raphael too didn’t want to draw Heaven’s attention—they had received a stern warning from Michael and Gabriel after they abandoned them with Abraham, five centuries ago.

So for twenty months, there was only the two of them, together.

It was awkward at first, but slowly, the two of them warmed up to each other. They began talking again, though at first they talked about mundane things; about the weather that day, about the local food from the areas they stopped in, about the kind people the two of them had met, those little things. It was slow going, but they slowly opened up to each other.

Raphael told Aziraphale about the other Archangels; about Gabriel who only wanted the best for his fellow angels regardless of rank, about Michael whose guidance was highly appreciated amongst them, about Uriel and other angels he knew. Aziraphale returned it with stories about Hell; about the demon that Aziraphale had worked for, Hastur, a Duke of Hell, who was rather terrible even to his own underlings, about his assignments and his failures. And oh, there were so many failures.

“They told me I’m  _ terrible _ at being terrible”, Aziraphale had said. Raphael hadn’t know what to say, then. They still didn’t know what to say.

Then, two months ago, they finally reached this part of China.

The two of them built a house on the riverbank of the Yangtze River, which the locals avoided like the plague due to the threat of flood. Because of this, their house was a few hours away from the nearest village, and the locals had known them as a pair of strange foreigners who lived in a house surrounded by hydrangeas. Some even believed that the two of them were actually spirits who guarded the hydrangeas, and Aziraphale found this infinitely funny because he claimed that Raphael was rather protective of them.

Perhaps Raphael was, indeed, rather protective of them. The hydrangeas were, after all, dependent on their guidance and care. Not to mention that Raphael was rather attached to them too.

Raphael was in the middle of watering the hydrangea, a bamboo bucket in one hand and a ladle in another, when Aziraphale exited the house, yawning. His bird nest of hair was tied back into a bun and he was wearing a loose hemp tunic and pants. In his hand was one of the iron cups the two of them had brought from Hattusa—the one that Raphael had made in Zuzulli’s forge. It now contained steaming tea, it seemed.

“Good morning”, Raphael greeted.

Aziraphale grunted in response, before sipping his tea. Raphael flicked a few droplets of water at him, which he failed to avoid.

“Very funny”, Aziraphale grumbled. “Is there a reason for you to wake up this early?”

“The sun rose an hour ago”, Raphael pointed out.

“Exactly”, Aziraphale countered.

Raphael rolled their eyes. “I was planning to go to the village, but if you don’t want to go—”

“Can we go to the market?” Aziraphale asked excitedly, suddenly alert.

“Sure, why not”, Raphael replied. “Craving noodles again?”

“Persimmons, actually”, Aziraphale corrected. “And maybe some  _ longyan _ , if they still have any.”

“Oh, well. Wait a moment, I’m almost finished here”, Raphael said, before continuing their work.

It wasn’t long before the hydrangeas were watered, the excess growth was pruned, and the weeds were taken care of, before Raphael went back into the house and changed into something travel-worthy. The hemp cloak they wore was plain and hoodless, but it was enough to ward off the chilly air.  _ For now. _

But winter was coming fast, and the two of them would need better sets of cloaks to get through the winter, lest they would be inconveniently discorporated from the freezing weather.

It almost happened last winter, when they were on the road, and the two of them were forced to huddle together in front of a fire. Aziraphale had been so worried when Raphael refused to wake up, until a fellow traveler helped the two of them back into a village where they could stay during the winter. Raphael still recalled the memory rather fondly once they got over the shock of nearly getting themself discorporated.

The two of them then began the journey to the village. Raphael had brought along a basket that contained a few ironwares, which was still rather uncommon in this part of the world. It was rather useful skill to have, and Raphael had been planning to build a bloomery, come spring.

“I hope these will be enough to trade with a few sets of winter clothing”, Raphael said once they stopped by a bamboo grove to rest. “I’d rather not use miracles, when possible.”

“Mmm”, Aziraphale hummed while he bit into an apple. He had found some wild apples and was enjoying himself. “We haven’t been using miracles since—”

“Since you fell down that ravine last summer and twisted your ankle, yes. I remember”, Raphael said with a sigh. The ravine wasn’t that deep, and Aziraphale had been more pissed off that he fell in the first place than he was worried about being discorporated.

“You’ve been rather good at healing me lately”, Aziraphale pointed out. “Remember the first time you tried to heal me?”

Raphael groaned and covered their face with their hand. “ _ Lord _ , don’t remind me.”

“Using holy energy from Above, while invoking God’s name”, Aziraphale reminded them. “I was lucky I didn’t  _ spontaneously combust _ on the spot.”

“You’re going to remind me of that for the rest of our lives, aren’t you?” Raphael said with a groan.

“Why, my dear, I would  _ never! _ ” Aziraphale smiled almost too innocently.

The two of them reached the village when the weak autumn sun was high above their heads. They headed to the market immediately, where it was already crowded with people (and occasionally animals). Raphael was surprised when Aziraphale suddenly took their hand in his, perhaps so that the two of them wouldn’t get separated. They blushed, but said nothing as the two of them headed towards the bronzeware seller. 

They managed to trade two cups and a plate with a small sack of coins. These coins were made out cowrie shells, unlike the ones from Hittite Empire which were made out of bronze. Raphael counted the coins, before putting them back into the pouch, satisfied. Now they could buy the cloaks that they needed.

The tannery was located not too far away. They traded more than half of the coins with two sets of fur cloak— the seller even gave them some fur gloves and boots. Raphael immediately replaced the hemp cloak they wore with the fur one and put on the gloves. They sighed in relief as warmth began to seep back into their fingers.

“It’s not even that cold”, Aziraphale teased as the two of them exited the tannery.

“Says someone with hellfire as their core”, Raphael returned, rubbing their hands together.

Aziraphale did not respond, so Raphael turned only to find him suddenly stopping in front of a stall. As Raphael came closer, it seemed that it sold a wide array of women accessories.

“Some pretties for your pretty flower, sir?” the merchant proposed.

“Ah, they’re not my—”

“I’m not his—”

Aziraphale and Raphael had started and stopped at the same time, but the merchant didn’t seem to notice. Instead, the plump man had stood up from behind the display table and approached them both.

“Please look around. I am confident that you will find anything you need here”, the merchant said.

“We’re just looking”, Raphael gave him their winning smile, before turning to Aziraphale, who was intently staring at something on the display table.

“Actually, how much for this ring?” Aziraphale pointed at a ring made out of smooth yellow stone — yellow jade, it seemed.

“Oh, I’m afraid it is quite expensive. The stone is rather rare, you see”, the merchant answered with a half grimace-half smile. 

Aziraphale reached into the fold of his sleeve and pulled out a gold coin out of nowhere. The merchant sputtered, eyes widening in surprise. 

“Will this be enough?” Aziraphale asked.

“That would be—”

“Not enough? How about this?” Aziraphale asked. Now there were two coins in his hand.

“O-of course, good sir”, the merchant bowed, and the two of them exchanged the ring with the gold coins. He was still thanking Aziraphale profusely as they walked away from the merchant’s stall.

“Here. For you”, Aziraphale said, handing the yellow jade ring to Raphael.

Raphael blushed. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Actually, I have to”, Aziraphale interrupted. “That man is a thief who’s trying to sell his stolen goods. He took this yellow jade ring from an old widow two days ago; said widow died early this morning. So I took some gold coins from the pocket of a local minister, who would travel the market in an hour’s time. Come night, the minister will realize that his pocket is two coins short and conduct a search in the village.”

“Right. So when they searched the man, they will find the minister’s coins, and they will try him for thievery”, Raphael finished. “That’s… rather devious of you.”

“Isn’t it?” Aziraphale had looked rather pleased with his trick, his body swaying with utter glee.

With a smile, Raphael slipped the yellow jade ring into their index finger, and found that it was a perfect fit. There was a strong aura of love coming off from the ring, and Raphael had a brief flash of its history. The widow to whom it belonged had gotten it from her own Soulmate, and it was her most cherished possession, especially once her Soulmate had passed away several years ago. It was such a pity that she didn’t get it back, but Raphael made a mental promise to take really good care of it.

After all, their own Soulmate had given it to them.

The two of them then headed towards the fruit stall, and bought some persimmons for Aziraphale. Unfortunately, the merchant didn’t have  _ longyan  _ this late into autumn, but they did have some goji berries and wild loquats. Soon, the basket Raphael had brought was filled with persimmons and loquats, while Aziraphale began snacking on the goji berries.

The merchant then taught them both how to dry the persimmons to preserve it. Aziraphale was  _ delighted _ to find that he would still have some snacks to go through the winter, though Raphael doubted that the persimmons would last that long. Not because they doubted the merchant, no; but they doubted Aziraphale’s self control when it came to his favorite food.

Indulgence, as it turned out, was the demon’s strongest trait.

Said demon was tugging the sleeve of Raphael’s cloak, as they walked out of the market. Raphael stopped and raised their eyebrows at him.

“Can we have some noodles?” Aziraphale asked, his icy blue eyes wide and pleading.

Raphael rolled their eyes fondly.

“Sure, let’s go get some noodles.”

—

Winter came and went, and spring finally arrived in full. The hydrangeas outside the house were blooming purple, pink, and light blue, and warm spring sun bathed the dew-dotted grass in its radiance, causing them to sparkle like tiny little diamonds.

Raphael was sitting on a bamboo bench outside the house, and contemplated everything as they sipped their warm tea. The morning breeze blew the bamboo leaves from a nearby grove, and Raphael outstretched their hand to catch one of them within their palm.

There were times when Raphael wished they had been mortals, them and Aziraphale. Then perhaps the two of them could spend the rest of their lives in this house, by the Yangtze River, surrounded by the hydrangeas that Raphael had grown to love dearly. The house had been the first place, where they lived together in the same space and… settled down.

“There you are”, a voice called, and Raphael didn’t need to turn to see that it was Aziraphale. But they did, because they wanted to gaze at their Soulmate’s face, again and again, for all eternity.

“Good morning”, Raphael greeted, and Aziraphale approached him. His finger reached at Raphael’s hair and Raphael’s eyes fell shut as Aziraphale plucked something out of it.

Raphael opened their eyes, and saw that it was a leaf.

“Thank you”, Raphael told him.

“Of course”, Aziraphale returned, before taking a seat next to them. “Any reason why you’re sitting here all by yourself?”

“I haven’t submitted any reports for five hundred years”, Raphael answered before they could stop themself.

“Oh.” Aziraphale clearly wasn’t expecting that answer. “Well, any reason why you haven’t submitted any reports for five hundred years?”

Raphael shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to. But then…”

They sighed, and stared off into the distance. The valleys looked even more beautiful, as the green grass began to overtake the icy ground and the spring sun peeked through the morning mist, golden against the grey.

“… then?” Aziraphale asked, breaking Raphael out of their haze.

“Then I met you, and I sort of… forgot”, Raphael finished, turning back to Aziraphale once again.

“Oh…”

Raphael took a long sip of their tea.

“Usually—” Aziraphale began. “Usually when someone in Hell forgets to report, the Duke of Hell would send someone. To check in. Does… does the same also apply to Heaven?”

“I suppose. I don’t know”, Raphael shrugged. “I suppose Gabriel is going to use the occasion to check up on me.”

“Gabriel? The archangel?” Aziraphale asked.

“The one and only, yup”, Raphael nodded.

“Huh”, Aziraphale hummed. “Are you two… close?”

“He’s like… a brother to me”, Raphael answered. “He’s not very fond of demons.”

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, before he asked, “Is this your way to tell me that we should go our separate ways once again?”

Raphael could feel their shoulders sagging. They didn’t want to. They didn’t want to be separated from Aziraphale once again. They didn’t want to feel the loneliness they felt before they met with Aziraphale again. They didn’t want to leave this life they built together.

But they didn’t want to go too fast. So they had to use this pathetic excuse, to hide their own pathetic bleeding heart.

“I suppose”, Raphael said instead.

“Well, I suppose I should be going now.” Aziraphale made a move to stand up, but Raphael reached for his hand.

“Sit with me? For a bit?” they asked.

Aziraphale opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, his expression softened.

“Well, alright, then.”

Silence blanketed them uneasily, but as they stared off into the distance, neither of them wanted to say anything.


	8. Various Places (1128 BC — 776 BC)

##  **Head Office (1128 BC)**

“Eight centuries”, Gabriel said, rubbing his temple.

“I said I was sorry”, Raphael returned with a pout.

“You missed your reports for eight centuries!” Gabriel cried out dramatically, and Raphael couldn’t stop a sigh from escaping her.

“Why does it matter? I’m going to submit it now if you stop bothering me for just one sec—”

“Eight centuries, Raphael!” Gabriel threw his hands up into the air.

“I know, I know. Now shoo”, Raphael waved her hand.

But Gabriel refused to ‘shoo’. No, instead the other Archangel was leaning over to Raphael’s desk while he was staring at her and the papers in front of her with his big purple eyes. Raphael quickly used the silence to pen down the various miracles she did throughout the years since she last reported back to the Head Office.

“Are you going to do your report now?” Gabriel asked, after a stretch of silence.

Raphael sighed. “I am doing it now.”

“You’re missing some miracles from 1445 to 1443 BC”, Gabriel pointed out.

“Oh, right”, Raphael quickly wrote down the time when she healed Aziraphale. Of course, she didn’t write down who exactly she healed, but the Head Office (and Gabriel specifically) didn’t need to know  _ that _ .

“You only performed one miracle during this time?” Gabriel asked, and while Raphael couldn’t sense any malice coming from him, her heart still skipped a beat.

“I was traveling”, Raphael told the truth. “Didn’t see a lot of people much.” The last part was only half-lie. She didn’t see people then, but she did see a demon and she saw him every day for two and a half years.

“Hmm”, Gabriel hummed.

Another silence stretched between them, filled with the scratching noise of Raphael’s pen on the paper.

“You were with your Soulmate, weren’t you?” Gabriel asked all of a sudden.

The paper combusted.

“What— How— No! Why would—” Raphael spluttered.

“It’s okay, Raphael. I won’t tell the others”, Gabriel said, as if that was reassuring enough. Raphael put out the fire in front of her and took another report form from her drawer.

“Well, thanks?” She was unsure how to proceed. The other Archangels never treated her differently when it came to her Soulmate, and she didn’t really care about their opinions anyway. This was her Soulmate after all, the bond that God Almighty Herself had given to her.

But still…

“I don’t know how you could spend so much time with a demon and not be filled with the urge to smite them”, Gabriel said.

“Well… he’s my Soulmate, first of all”, Raphael pointed out as she went back to writing her report. “I would never smite him.”

“You’d be a terrible fighter”, Gabriel said.

“I’m a healer. I do not fight”, Raphael returned.

“Even during the upcoming Great War?” Gabriel asked. And again, Raphael could feel her heart skip once again.

She did not like to be reminded that she would be standing on the opposite side with her own Soulmate. She liked to pretend that there would be no war at all. Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea. 

Maybe there should never be a war.

“Even then”, Raphael resolved.

“Hmm”, Gabriel hummed again.

“Maybe if you, you know, meet with your own Soulmate, you’ll understand that”, Raphael said, before she could stop herself.

It was Gabriel’s turn to splutter. “Wh— No, why would— Raphael!”

“Am I wrong, though?” Raphael asked, a smile curling on her lips. “How many millennia it’s been since you saw zir? Since Eden? Before the Fall?”

“Ze’s the Prince of Hell!” Gabriel hissed through his teeth.

“And you’re the Archangel  _ Fucking _ Gabriel”, Raphael was positively gleeful now. “Are you saying you’re afraid of zir?”

“Of course not!” Gabriel said almost too defensively. “But, but it’s different. With your— your situation!”

“Oh? How is it any different?” Raphael challenged.

“I am the Lord’s Messenger, and ze is the Prince of Hell”, Gabriel said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

“I still can’t see how it’s different”, Raphael shrugged. “We’re both angels, they’re both demons.”

“It’s  _ different! _ ” Gabriel insisted, his hands flailing and his hair was beginning to fly — if you would pardon the pun — in all directions. Raphael decided to take pity on him, and raised her hands in surrendering gesture.

“Alright, alright. Calm down, before you set this room on fire or something”, Raphael told him, and Gabriel did calm down. “I’m just saying, if you meet your Soulmate or something, you’ll understand my, ah,  _ situation _ , as you put it.”

Gabriel didn’t say anything else, but Raphael could tell that he was seriously considering it.

— 

##  **Western Ganga Plain (1074 BC)**

Loneliness was dangerous company, and it gnawed at Raphael’s core like some kind of persistent parasite. 

After three centuries of not seeing Aziraphale, there was this compulsion to seek him out. It was only growing even stronger with each passing year, until Raphael was unable to hold it back any longer. 

So she decided that it would be a quick trip, just to see Aziraphale’s face for a brief moment before she went back to her duties. Just a quick trip, she promised herself. Just to satisfy her compulsion and curiosity about Aziraphale’s wellbeing.

Yes, that sounded better. Just to check up on her Soulmate. That wouldn’t hurt.

And that was how she ended up observing Aziraphale from the distance. Her Soulmate was entertaining a gaggle of children with his flute by the Ganga River. He wore a flower garland around his neck, and a piece of cloth wrapped around his waist to cover his modesty. His pale skin made him stand out amongst the locals.

Raphael didn’t know that he could play the flute, another thing she didn’t know about her Soulmate — but the sight somehow reminded her of the Flood back in Mesopotamia. It filled her chest with warmth.

Aziraphale, Raphael decided, was rather good with children.

She watched him until the sun was slipping westward and the children dispersed, leaving him alone. She watched him when he transformed into a leucistic crow, before flying over towards her. He transformed back into his humanoid form and landed in front of her.

Note this — this was the first time Raphael had seen Aziraphale without a shirt, and Raphael could feel her face heating up at the sight.

“Any reason why you’re lurking by the tree, my dear?” Aziraphale asked.

Raphael shrugged to hide her rapidly beating heart. The bond that connected their cores sang, this close they were to each other. 

She still tried not to stare at Aziraphale’s chest.

“Nothing in particular”, she lied, before pulling out an iron brooch shaped like a pair of wings from the folds of her clothes. “I made this for you.”

“For me?” Aziraphale’s face brightened up as he accepted the brooch. “Oh. Oh, you don’t have to! This is really gorgeous, my dear.”

“S’not that hard to make”, Raphael said, linking her fingers behind her back as she tried hard not to blush from the compliment.

“Oh, nevertheless this is gorgeous”, Aziraphale returned.

“I need to go now”, Raphael said, even though all that she wanted was to latch herself onto Aziraphale’s corporeal form and never let him go again. Actually, she knew that if she stayed any longer, she would do just that.

“Oh, okay”, Aziraphale had sounded slightly disappointed.

“Bye”, Raphael said as she materialized her wings.

“Bye”, Aziraphale returned. “Meet you again later, my dear.”

—

##  **Elam (993 BC)**

They stumbled upon each other again, not even one century after their last meeting.

Raphael immediately gravitated around Aziraphale before settling on his right as usual. They were in a market of some sort, and Aziraphale was observing the wares in front of him as if they held the secret of the universe. He didn’t seem to realize Raphael’s presence by his side, not yet, so Raphael poked him in the ribs.

“What—? Oh, hello”, Aziraphale greeted kindly, before his eyes fully settled on Raphael as he did a double take. “Oh, no! Whatever happened to your hair, my dear?”

He was, of course, referring to Raphael’s hair, which currently was cut short close to her scalp. Raphael covered it with her headscarf self-consciously.

“Long story”, Raphael replied with a wince, but at Aziraphale’s wide, inquiring eyes, she eventually relented. “I, ah, got caught in a tussle? Long story short, it was either my neck or my hair, so… yeah.”

“Your ne— W-what?!” Aziraphale squawked out. “You almost got discorporated?! But, but when? But  _ how?! _ ”

It was an embarrassing story that Raphael would rather not remember. But Aziraphale looked like he was going to work himself up into discorporation, so she let out a sigh and covered her face with her hand.

“Some bandits tried to mug a woman. I helped her, but they turned on me”, she said, her voice half-muffled by her hand. “I forgot that I was a woman at the moment.”

“When did this happen?  _ Where? _ I will not stand for this injustice!” Aziraphale puffed up his chest. “How  _ dare _ they hurt your pretty hair!”

“Is that what you’re focused on?” Raphael deadpanned. “My  _ hair? _ ”

“Your hair is very pretty, my dear”, Aziraphale tutted. “It’s truly a tragedy!”

Raphael felt her face heat up. “Oh. Well, thank you. I guess?”

Aziraphale was still puffing up with rage, and though it was rather endearing that he worked himself up for her, Raphael would rather have him calm down. It was just hair, after all. She could grow that back out once again.

“So, any reason why you were staring at the wares like they hold the secret of the universe?” Raphael asked, changing the topic.

“Oh, well…” Aziraphale sighed. “After you gave me that brooch, I thought I’d give you something in return. I was thinking some hair comb for your lovely hair, but…”

“Ah, you don’t have to”, Raphael said, blushing.

“I must insist”, Aziraphale returned. “Please, my dear. Your brooch was lovely, and I might not be able to create something like it, but allow me to return the courtesy.”

“Oh.” Raphael didn’t know what to say, and her fingers gingerly touched the yellow jade ring that she still wore at her index finger. “Well, I’ll take a good care anything you give to me.”

“I know you will, my dear”, Aziraphale smiled at her.

Raphael returned his smile, before turning her attention back to the wares in front of her. Her eyes scanned the various accessories laid out on the display table, but one in particular caught her eyes.

“I’ll take this one, please”, Aziraphale pointed exactly at the item. It was a hairpin shaped like a five-petals flower with red ruby set at its centre.

He paid for it and promptly gave it to Raphael, who carefully tucked it into the fold of her clothes. She might be unable to wear it, what with her hair being cropped so short, but she would take good care of it.

“Now, we’re even”, Aziraphale puffed his chest proudly and swayed on his feet.

“That we are”, Raphael returned, fondly, as she made a promise to make Aziraphale another trinket to give.

— 

##  **Persia (853 BC)**

“I’ve been thinking”, Aziraphale said, before popping a grape into his mouth.

“That’s dangerous”, Raphael said, sipping his wine, and Aziraphale threw a grape at him. “Ow.”

“Listen, listen. I’ve been thinking”, Aziraphale said impatiently. “That I don’t  _ really _ connect with both the names I use, so perhaps I should change my name into something else. Something  _ creative _ .”

That… piqued Raphael’s interest. “Oh? To what?”

“I… did not think that far yet”, Aziraphale admitted, looking embarrassed. “But I thought you might have some idea.”

“Aretaios”, Raphael offered without thinking.

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “Now, don’t be  _ rude _ .”

“What? I thought it suits you”, Raphael said with a smirk. Aziraphale threw another grape at him, and Raphael let it bounce over his forehead.

“I’m a demon”, Aziraphale said as if that explained everything. “I cannot be  _ virtuous _ .”

Raphael pursed his lips. “Agathos, then.”

“I’m going to stuff these grapes up your— ugh!” Aziraphale ended with a huff. “I was thinking something Hebrew. Not to be biased, but Hebrew names are always nice, don’t you think?”

“Agreed”, Raphael nodded. “How about Asher, then?”

Aziraphale threw another grape at him.

— 

##  **Olympia (776 BC)**

They had decided to meet again at Olympia to see what would be the first of the Olympic Games.

To blend in with the crowd, Raphael was wearing dark red clothing, with her hair styled up and held in place with the hairpin that Aziraphale had given her. Meanwhile, Aziraphale wore light grey clothing, so light it was almost white, and the winged brooch that Raphael had given him. They gathered around the track, where the people were watching as the contestants did stretches. 

Raphael’s eyes caught a figure, who was standing across the track, and felt her stomach sink a little. She carefully miracled away the wine from her glass, before feigned out a curse.

“Ah, seems I have emptied my wine”, she told Aziraphale, who was happily munching his grapes.

“Oh dear, do you want me to get you some more?” Aziraphale asked.

“Please? I can save you your spot”, Raphael smiled.

Once Aziraphale was gone, the figure appeared by Raphael’s side. He wore fancy white clothes with golden fibula in the shape of a coiling vines.

“Peace be upon you, Gabriel”, Raphael greeted.

“Peace be upon you too, Raphael”, Gabriel returned, before making a face at Raphael’s empty cup. “Why do you consume  _ that? _ ”

“It’s wine. It’s nice”, Raphael answered, before grinning at her brother and refilling her empty cup with the wave of her hand. She took a rather loud sip and enjoyed the way Gabriel’s face morphed into both disgust and horror.

“It seems you’ve spent too much time with that the Demon Crowy”, Gabriel said.

Now, Raphael was currently considering a plethora of mean words to be directed towards Gabriel, but she swallowed them down with a gulp of her wine.

“Do you have something to tell me other than insulting my Soulmate?” Raphael said with as much hostility as she could muster, but it seemed said hostility flew right over Gabriel’s head.

“Ah, yes. Actually I wanted to tell you that there are some changes at the Head Office”, Gabriel said. “Every field agent is now required to report once every decade, and be ready for an inspection once every century. No more missing reports for centuries!”

“Once every decade? Isn’t that a bit too much?” Raphael asked. “And that includes me?”

“I’m afraid so”, Gabriel said with a grimace. “You’re literally our first and longest field agent. Nobody wanted to be stationed down here, until you did. And look at us now! Nearly five million field agents being stationed on Earth, spreading our Lord’s Grace and thwarting wiles of demons!”

Gabriel smacked Raphael’s shoulder, and Raphael thought her shoulder was going to bruise.

“The last part… I’m exempt from doing that, aren’t I?” Raphael asked, hesitantly. “After all, my main job is to heal, not to… thwart.”

“What? Ah! Well, uh, you see, the report form has a section which you can write the wiles you thwarted”, Gabriel slung his arm around Raphael’s shoulder, while his other hand looked like he was writing something on an invisible paper. “As long as you do your duty exceptionally, I don’t see why you can’t be exempt. It’s going to affect your performance, but who’s counting? You’re an Archangel, for God’s sake!”

Well, that was… reassuring, at least.

“Thanks for telling me, Gabriel”, Raphael returned with a smile, before pausing. “Wait, does that mean you’re delivering this change of policy to all five million field agents on Earth?”

Much to his surprise, Gabriel laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed, until he bent over still laughing. He only paused briefly to take a look at Raphael’s face before he laughed once again.

“Oh, oh Raphael! You’re always so funny!” he howled.

Raphael didn’t know what to say.

Eventually Gabriel’s laughter abated, and he suddenly pulled Raphael into a tight,  _ tight _ hug—of which Raphael was sure something was broken inside her. Once they were done hugging, Gabriel walked away, still chuckling to himself, before he disappeared in the crowd.

“Did you make me go take a walk through the crowd just so you can talk with that angel?” a voice came from behind her made Raphael turn.

“Sorry about that”, Raphael told Aziraphale with a weak grin. “That was Archangel Gabriel. I was afraid that he would smite you on sight.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “Fair enough. Here’s your wine.”

“Cheers”, Raphael took the cup from Aziraphale, before taking a sip from it.


	9. Mecca (610 AD)

Raphael was definitely not sulking.

Alright, perhaps a little bit. But it was hard not to sulk when Gabriel had left her alone in the inn while he was busy doing his messengerial duty somewhere. 

Raphael didn’t even know why he had bothered to bring her along, only that he wanted her to accompany her somewhere. Raphael had agreed to tag along, because she had missed her brother, even though only Gabriel was needed for this particular duty. It was better than hanging around at Constantinople doing absolutely nothing… or so she thought.

She regretted her decision as soon as she entered the city, and some drunken men were trying to hit on her. Raphael tried to dodge their advance and pass as a married woman, by clinging to Gabriel the whole time as they walked through the street. Thankfully, Gabriel’s bulk was enough to deter the men from harassing her further.

But then, of course, Gabriel had to leave.

Night had fallen at Mecca, and Raphael was enjoying her milk with dates,  _ alone _ . She had expended a small miracle to have her night undisturbed, so the inn was rather empty.

The dates melted perfectly in the milk, creating a sweet, delicious indulgence. It was nothing that she ever tasted before — even compared to the fine wine she’d tasted back in Olympia. Humans really had a very creative way to make their life more flavorful.

“Milk? Seriously?” The familiar voice made Raphael turn, and found Aziraphale stood behind her. Of course, only Aziraphale could cancel her miracle with his own demonic one. “You look so deep in your sulking that for one moment I thought you’d be drinking something strong, my dear.”

“Peace be upon you too, Aziraphale”, Raphael teased, knowing how much Aziraphale hated the phrase, before making a point by sipping her milk.

Aziraphale tutted, before taking a seat next to Raphael.

“While you’re in Mecca, please let me  _ tempt  _ you for some roasted camel”, he said, a bright smile on his face.

Raphael held herself back from rolling her eyes at the demon’s choice of words. “Are you getting back at me for Hattusa now?”

“It’s quite a delicacy, I’ll have you know”, Aziraphale said with a sway. “The taste is, if I’m allowed to say so, absolutely  _ heavenly _ .”

“You know I don’t eat, sunshine”, Raphael answered. Aziraphale’s eyes fell to the plate of dates in front of her. Raphael sighed. “That’s different.”

“You’re no fun”, Aziraphale pouted, before talking to the server, who brought him a plateful of roasted camel and grains. Raphael watched him eat for a moment.

This was not the first time Raphael had seen Aziraphale eat, but still it was an… intriguing process of putting things in one’s mouth, chewing, swallowing, and repeat. She hadn’t realized that she was staring, until Aziraphale’s strange eyes shifted towards her and their corners crinkled as he smiled knowingly at her. He then let out a moan that could only be described as sinful, and Raphael could feel her face heating up. She covered it up with bringing her own drink to her lips.

“Whatever brings you here?” she asked, just to keep the conversation going.

“I was supposed to tempt a man, who’s supposed to be a prophet of a new religion”, Aziraphale answered. “Imagine my surprise to see Archangel Gabriel was already talking with the man.”

That made Raphael choke.

“You saw Gabriel?!” she squawked, dread settling in her stomach. Gabriel wouldn’t hesitate to smite any lesser demon that crossed his path, especially to protect said prophet-to-be from any demonic influence. Aziraphale was  _ lucky _ .

“I did. Needless to say, I did not linger for long”, Aziraphale answered, before patting his lips daintily with a piece of cloth. “You needn’t worry. I don’t think he saw me. I was in my other form, you see.”

Raphael doubted that. Gabriel would have felt Aziraphale’s demonic presence, whichever corporeal form Aziraphale took. It was a wonder that Aziraphale survived the encounter unscathed— although it made Raphael wonder if Gabriel was sparing Aziraphale, as he was Raphael’s Soulmate. Raphael made a mental note to ask Gabriel later.

_ Or maybe not _ . She did not want Gabriel to hassle her with another Talk about her Soulmate. The last one hadn’t gone so well, had it?

Once the food and drink were gone, they exited the inn out onto the street, where it was mostly empty. Some guards milled about or chatting with the locals, who were blissfully unaware of the two ethereal and occult beings in their midst.

“I kind of feel bad for the man, you know. He seemed  _ absolutely  _ terrified when your brother showed up”, Aziraphale said all of a sudden as they walked.

“I don’t understand— Terrified?” Raphael tilted her head in confusion in confusion. Shouldn’t humans be awed to be in the presence of an Archangel? Why would he be terrified?

“Indeed. Perhaps that was because the Archangel went R͈̙̦̞̕ę̪̮̩̹͟a̢̼̥d͈̘̮̹͚!’ in all of his Archangelic glory”, Aziraphale answered, and a laugh burst out of Raphael, unbidden. She wasn’t expecting the Gabriel-impression, even more so that it was completely on point.

“Oh! Oh, poor boy! He must’ve been so,  _ so _ terrified!” Raphael managed to wheeze out between her laughter.

“I think he was so terrified he was frozen on the spot”, Aziraphale returned. “And did you know what the poor little thing said in return? ‘I cannot read!’”

“Oh my  _ Lord! _ ” Raphael burst out laughing once again.

“Seriously, the whole thing was hilarious as it was. You should have seen it”, Aziraphale said with a satisfied smile as he ended his story. 

Too bad, Raphael wanted to hear more. She made another mental note to ask (or rather, tease) Gabriel about the encounter later. Perhaps she could make it as a retribution for leaving her alone at the inn.

As they walked, a noise pulled Raphael’s attention. She turned and saw a woman weeping upon a mound of soil by the bushes. From the look of it, it looked like she was grieving over the deceased and so Raphael made a move to console her, but Aziraphale held her back.

“There is nothing you can do”, Aziraphale said glumly, and Raphael was having a whiplash from how quick the atmosphere shifted.

“What do you mean?” Raphael asked, blinking in confusion.

“I saw them earlier. Her husband has buried their newborn daughter”, Aziraphale answered. Raphael tilted her head confusedly, and Aziraphale continued after a sigh, “— _ Alive _ .”

Raphael’s eyes widened.

“What?! Why would he do—”

“It’s what they do with daughters on this part of the world”, Aziraphale explained, and Raphael suddenly felt really,  _ really  _ sick. Aziraphale, however, was not finished. “Hell has secured plenty of souls from this area lately. Morality is low and evil is thriving. It’s no wonder She wants a new prophet around.”

Raphael turned his attention back to the weeping woman, and felt at a loss about what to do.

—

The new prophet of the Lord, Muhammad, was unable to read as it turned out, not even a little bit. It was a wonder that the man was known as a good trader and a wise man amongst his tribe, the Quraysh tribe.

Thus, Gabriel had to stay longer than intended to teach the man how to read. It was rather hilarious, in Raphael’s opinion. Gabriel was not known for his patience, so Raphael could only imagine how the whole thing went. Obviously, Gabriel couldn’t snap at God’s new prophet, and Raphael  _ really _ wished that she could accompany Gabriel to watch. Alas, Gabriel had made it very clear that Raphael’s assistance was not needed.

The only good thing from the whole situation, with Gabriel off teaching Muhammad how to read, was that Raphael could spend some time with her Soulmate. 

Though her mood was rather sullen as of late, it was significantly better when she was with Aziraphale. Raphael didn’t know if it was thanks to their Soulmate bond, or if the demon was just rather entertaining to be around, but she was thankful for his presence nonetheless. 

So, like a good Soulmate, Raphael told Aziraphale this, and noted with amusement the way the color of Aziraphale’s face shifted into a pretty shade of red.

“Flatterer”, Aziraphale tutted. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I don’t have a moth— Wait.”

Aziraphale giggled, before popping a date into his mouth and, Raphael had to brace herself,  _ moaned  _ sinfully.

“Can you not?” Raphael groaned, as she usually did. Her face was warm, and she looked around to see if anyone had noticed them—no one had— of course, because Raphael hadn’t wanted them to. But still.

“Yes,  _ dear? _ ” Aziraphale blinked his eyes almost too innocently, and Raphael could feel her face heat up even more.

“You did that on purpose”, Raphael pouted.

“Whatever did I do?” Aziraphale asked, looking very  _ pleased _ with himself.

As they walked through the street that was lined with vendors—they were in a market, it seemed—Raphael began to suspect that Aziraphale had been on Mecca for far longer than both Gabriel and her had, and he was quite knowledgeable about local things. He was currently relaying information about which tribes were having a dispute and what caused them, when they went past a stall that sold flowers. 

Raphael’s eyes immediately fell on a particular desert plant of some sort. Its small flowers had the whitest petals Raphael had seen, and the blossoms were rather fragrant. She hadn’t realized that she had stopped walking, until Aziraphale sidled next to her.

“That’s a rather lovely flower, isn’t it?” Aziraphale commented.

“Isn’t it amazing? Even in the harshness of nature, life found a way”, Raphael returned with a smile.

“Pretty sure these are cultivated in a controlled environment, but I understand your sentiment”, Aziraphale said, before handing over a piece of coin to the seller. “Give some to the lovely lady, please.”

“Oh. You don’t have to”, Raphael said.

“Please. These belong to your hair”, Aziraphale insisted, before placing one behind her ear. “There you go.”

Raphael blinked, and stared at her Soulmate.

“I told you I rather liked your beautiful hair”, Aziraphale teased with a coy smile.

“Thank you”, Raphael said, putting her hand on her cheek, which felt warm.

They ended up carrying a basket of flowers from the stall. The seller had called them  _ al-yasimin  _ — or jasmine. Now, the language of flowers hadn’t been invented yet, so imagine centuries later Raphael was idly browsing a book and found that they meant purity, beauty, and sensuality.

Back in the present, the sun was setting and the first stars began to peek out from behind the clouds. The two of them sat under a fig tree, where Aziraphale weaved flowers into the braids of her hair and Raphael pointed out the stars that she had created.

— 

Days turned into weeks, and Raphael was growing restless.

While Gabriel was out teaching Muhammad, Raphael and Aziraphale would stroll the streets of Mecca, observing humans in their mundane lives. On occasion, Raphael would stop to help the sick and injured.

Mecca was not really known for being the best place to live. Injustice, social unrest, abuse of power, widespread discrimination especially towards women, and other evil deeds happened all the time. In short, the place seemed like a demon’s playing ground; evil not only thrived here, but it also  _ spread  _ like some kind of parasitic plant upon the land and people. And Raphael couldn’t help them all, not without doing a lot of work uprooting evil and changing the city down to its core.

Just as Aziraphale had said, it was no wonder the Almighty would want another prophet to guide these belligerent people.

Raphael was walking through the street with Aziraphale, staying as close as physically possible to him the whole time to avoid harassment, when she heard a commotion. When she turned, she saw a woman was chasing a man who was carrying an infant in his hands.

It was as if her feet moved on their own accord, she approached the couple, her wings and halo materializing. The man and woman turned their attention to her, and found themselves in awe of her radiance.

“Raphael, wait! You can’t— Oh dear…” Aziraphale’s voice was cut off as he suddenly transformed into a leucistic crow and flew away. Raphael didn’t have the chance to process what had just happened, when someone grabbed her by the arm.

It was Gabriel.

“Raphael, what do you think you’re doing?” he hissed at her. “You’re going to scare off these poor humans!”

“G̳o̟̻̬̯o̫̗̝͇͍d̘̹”, Raphael’s voice echoed in the narrow alleyway. “Be̬̖͔̲̫̜̲c̺̗̟̙̯a̦̩u̺̲s̜̙̯̩ͅe̟͈̖͔̮͖ ṱ̤h̟̻̫̗͚i̖̱͎̺̺̗s ̠̥m̘̬a͓n ̖is̭͍͍̪̰̪ ̩̲͓a͙͖bo͇̣̻͍̙̦̥u̳̭̜t̗̼͍͇ͅ ̺̥ț̳̜͓̙̼͎o̠̘̩̠ ̠̥͎k̫̞͎͓͔̭̟il̬̟̗l̬ ̩t͈ḫ̤̤̝e͍ͅi̫r̘ ̞̝͇i͕nf̮͉̳̯̝̟a̺̮̯̻̺͚͔nṯ͇̙̜̘ͅ d̥̪̣̼̤̪a͎̖͉͕͚̮͙u̯͕̮̲̱̘g͉̙̥h̜͙̺t͙̥̙͙e̳r̠͇̯̯.”

Gabriel’s purple eyes widened, and Raphael struggled to get away from him. She had to do something— anything—before… 

“Let me talk to him”, a man, probably in his forties, stepped forward from where he was standing behind Gabriel. His face was filled with determination, and Raphael could feel… peace practically radiating from the man.

The man, Raphael realized belatedly, was Muhammad.

And he pulled aside the man who was holding the infant girl and the woman with her, before he talked to them. Raphael couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about, but she could see that the man looked quite distraught. Within minutes, he was sobbing, while Muhammad gently took the infant away from the man’s hands. He then gave it to the woman, who was also sobbing as she cuddled her daughter close to her chest. Raphael could hear her thanking him profusely as she sobbed.

“Huh”, Raphael hummed as her wings and halo dematerialized.

“He does that”, Gabriel told Raphael helpfully. “He can de-escalate any situation like…”

“Like miracles…” Raphael ended. So the man was indeed a God’s Prophet and Messenger, and he seemed to know what to do too.

“He’s just what this land needs”, Gabriel said, and Raphael couldn’t help but agree.

After that, Gabriel and Muhammad said goodbye to Raphael, who was still processing the whole thing. Raphael rubbed her face as she tried to shake away the whole event from her head, before heading back to the inn. 

Halfway there, she heard a broken caw. She turned just in time for her Soulmate, still in his animal form, to land on her shoulder.

“You were afraid of Gabriel, huh?” Raphael asked the crow, and Aziraphale cawed again. “I think he’s already gone, so you can transform back, if you want to.”

With a shimmer, Aziraphale transformed into a man-shaped demon and landed next to Raphael. He looked a bit ruffled, but otherwise fine.

“Sorry about that. Wasn’t expecting another Archangel to butt in”, Aziraphale said as he straightened up his clothes.

“I wasn’t expecting Gabriel to be there either”, Raphael admitted.

“Lucky for the man. You looked like you were going to smite him”, Aziraphale said with a small chuckle.

“Wouldn’t work anyway. We’re not supposed to smite humans anymore”, Raphael shrugged. “You saw the whole thing?”

“Mmm”, Aziraphale nodded. “My Head Office would want to know about a new prophet in the area.”

“What? So your lot can corrupt him?” Raphael asked, a little bit sharper than intended.

“That’s not my decision, but I suppose, yeah”, Aziraphale returned. “Don’t be worried, though. The lad looks like he can handle himself. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Raphael supposed that was true.


	10. Jerusalem (1099 AD)

Blood pooled at Raphael’s feet up to his ankles as he waded through the crowd, a shield in one hand and a club in another. His armor had been dulled and dented in various places as he went through the battle. He had lost his helmet in a tussle earlier.

He was trying to be courteous not to step over the dead, but it was hard to do so when corpses quite literally littered the ground like fallen leaves, their spilled blood wetting the sole of his boots. Raphael grimaced as he nearly stepped on a corpse of a Muslim soldier, before twisting around to avoid stepping on it.

Occasionally, he would find someone who had yet to die, their breathing shallow as they fought pain and blood loss. He healed them as he walked by, expending his miraculous quota to the limit as he did. There were so many injured, so many in need of help. If Raphael was going to receive another warning for frivolous use of miracles, then so be it. 

The sky was painted in red, like the Apocalypse had decided to come early. It certainly felt like that too.

Raphael sighed as he paused and looked up to the sky. He wondered how it had to come to this, how the people of different faiths had come to hate each other enough to kill each other. Was this part of Her Plan? Had She foreseen that Her children would come to massacre each other?

“I’m afraid we’re too late. They burned down the synagogue”, Aziraphale said as he approached Raphael at an intersection. He had lost his turban that he had been wearing earlier, and both his armor and his sword were soaked in blood. Raphael tried not to think of how the demon might have killed.

“How about the Al-Aqsa Compound?” Raphael asked.

“There’s massacre happening in the Temple Mount and the Dome of the Rock”, Aziraphale answered. “No one is being spared.”

“We can still save them”, Raphael returned, determination filling his voice.

“Let’s go, then.”

As they trotted together, Raphael couldn’t stop thinking about the deaths, about the horror of it all, about the massacre. About  _ War _ . She had caused this, caused the crusaders to go wild and kill everyone they encountered, whether they were soldiers or children. She had sown aggression and bloodthirst in their hearts. Raphael wanted to believe  _ that _ , that a Horseperson caused this all on her own. 

Because believing the opposite would mean that humanity was capable of such horror, and he didn’t… he  _ couldn’t _ lose his faith to humanity. Not now, not ever.

As they reached Al-Aqsa Mosque, Raphael let out a whine as he saw a mother laid bloodied on the steps. She was clutching her infant child close to her chest, and when Raphael came to check them both, he was gladdened to find them still breathing, although barely.

He knelt by their side and, after invoking Lord’s name, began to pour healing energy from Above. The woman gasped, the stab wound on her side and the blood she was lying on disappearing, and the infant in her arms began to cry in earnest.

“Wh— what?” she stuttered as she looked at him, her eyes unfocused.

“Go be with my friend! We’re taking everyone out of the city”, Raphael said, tilting his head to where Aziraphale stood guard. He couldn’t enter the mosque, so Raphael would need to do it alone.

Once the woman did as she was told, Raphael miracled himself clean of blood and grime, and entered the mosque.

Inside, he found that the crusaders were slaughtering people who had taken refuge there. Even here, blood spilled all over the floor, flooding the sacred chamber with red. Anger rose in Raphael’s chest — the Lord’s message had taught all Jewish, all Christian, and all Muslims to be kind to each other, and yet these pissants, these so called warriors of God, had slaughtered each other inside a God’s house.

When Raphael materialized his pure white wings and halo, it was as if the stars had released a sigh. His radiance filled the chamber like twin black holes, obscuring his corporeal form from view. The whole transformation had pulled the attention of everyone inside the chamber, but when they tried to gaze at his true form, they found themselves unable to.

“L̘e̖͚̣̙a̰v̳̮̞̫͉̮e͔͚̫͈̬ ̩̟̺n͍͓o͉̥w͍͓̦̰!̺̰̬” his voice echoed inside the chamber.

The crusaders turned their weapons on him instead.

“W̙̫̜̯̫ͅḙ͖ͅl̥͓͔l̤̪,̼̱̲̰ ̮̝̘̤th̦̤͎͈̮̞e̫͖͔̯ṉ̝̺͎”, Raphael said. “͖̝̰͕D̫̮̺͖̻o̪n͇̠’t̺͍̗͚ ̝̺̯͖̲͖̫s̘͔͇͖a̰̣͙̩̝̥ͅy̹͙̱͓͇̗ ̭͓̫̺̪̺I̤͚̭ d̖̳͉̦͎̠̺id̝̟̭̗̦͇n̠̗ͅ’ṭ̜̪̳ ̘͇̪͓͖̳w͙̯̬̠̗ạ̞̲̲̰r̳͙͎͇̺̬ͅn̜̗̹̝ ͈̗̦y̖o̲̰̳̟ṷ͉͉̳̳̲̤"

With a snap of his long, clawed fingers, he put the crusaders to sleep. Their body fell to the ground, like puppets with their strings cut, and they landed haphazardly on top of each other. Another snap of his fingers, the sleeping crusaders immediately vanished as he returned them back to their respective tents with no recollection about what just had happened.

Raphael then turned his attention back to the Muslims. Some of them were still alive, so Raphael knelt by their side. After invoking God’s name, he healed them one by one.

It took awhile until every one of the wounded were healed. Once he was done, Raphael stood back up and snapped his fingers once again to clean the mosque off of blood and corpses.

“L̤̦̝̻̩͚̤e̮̮t̺̦̞̪̬͈’s̞̦̰̪̬̭ ̙̣̳̥g̭e͖̖ṭ̥̖͓̥̤ͅ ̼̤o̺̼u͔͕̜̤̱t͇̳̰̫ o̬f̣͕͔̰̲̞͈ ̣̜̮̞̩ͅh̪̬er̤͚e̯!” he told them, and as if entranced, the Muslims followed him out of the mosque.

That was when he felt a sharp pain striking at his core.

His wings and halo dematerialized, and the light emanating from his true form subsided as the pain exploded, causing him to fall to his knees. Outside the mosque, he saw War twirling her bloodied sword, while Aziraphale curled on the steps in the pool of his own blood.

“Well, well. This is a nice surprise”, War sneered. “An angel and a demon working together. And not just any other angel, but  _ the _ Archangel Raphael himself in the flesh.”

“Leave now, and I will leave you unscathed”, Raphael said through his gritted teeth, glaring at the Horsewoman as if wishing he could discorporate her on the spot.

“Mmm, I think not”, War hummed, before turning back to Aziraphale, poking him with the tip of her sword. “Are you two Soulmates? No wonder he tried to defend the mosque from me so hard. Poor little thing.”

“Leave,  _ now _ ”, Raphael insisted. “I will not ask for the third time.”

“I will”, War returned, before swinging her sword again and pointing it at the Muslims gathering behind him. “But not without my spoils.”

“Not a chance”, Raphael said, swinging his own club threateningly.

“Would you rather have me discorporate your Soulmate?” War asked, almost too innocently. “I heard the pain from your Soulmate’s discorporation will have you discorporated too.”

Raphael had heard that too, but he didn’t know if the rumor had any basis on it.

“I guess we’ll see”, Raphael challenged.

With a cackle, War lifted her sword, ready to cleave Aziraphale in half. That was when Aziraphale rolled onto his back and blocked her blow, his teeth grit as the effort caused him so much pain. Raphael used the distraction to charge toward War, his club raising threateningly.

Realizing that she had been outnumbered, War disappeared into red mist and reappeared on the top of a building across the yard.

“I will take my spoils, Archangel Raphael, one way or another”, she said, and it sounded so much like a promise. Then, she disappeared once again, undoubtedly to where the fighting was the thickest.

Raphael quickly knelt by Aziraphale’s side and found that he was still breathing. There was no time to heal him, however, as the sound of fighting was getting closer by the second. In no time, the next wave of crusaders would come and there would be slaughter. Refusing to leave Aziraphale alone, Raphael hauled his Soulmate’s body over his shoulders, before turning to the Muslims in his protection.

“Follow me”, Raphael said, and they followed just as they were told.

It took some miracles to create a safe passage, free from crusaders, for them to get out of the city. On their way, Raphael had to stop several times to make sure Aziraphale wouldn’t bleed to the point of discorporation. He found a lot of injured people too along the way — some of them, he found out later, were Jewish people who managed to escape the burning synagogue. Raphael refused to leave them too, and their group was getting larger as time passed.

They crossed paths with crusaders once or twice, a proof that Raphael’s miracle was at his limit. But Raphael made them disappear with a snap of his fingers. Exhausted to his bones, he and the group of refugees behind him managed to get out of the city walls.

“Go to Ashkelon where it’s safe”, Raphael told the refugees. “The war won’t reach you there.”

“Will you go with us, Lord’s Messenger?” one of the refugees asked. “You and your—”

He wanted to. He  _ really _ wanted to. He really want to make sure that these people would be safe, that nothing bad ever would befall them again. 

“I can’t”, he said instead. “He’s my Soulmate, and I need to heal him somewhere far away from the war.”

“We understand”, one of the Muslim refugee said. “Go, Lord’s Messenger. May Allah be with you.”

“May Allah protect you too”, Raphael told the refugee.

With a sigh, Raphael rematerialized his wings once again and, using the very last of his reserve, took Aziraphale away from War and the war.


	11. Aversley Wood (1100 AD)

Night had fallen hours ago, but Raphael couldn’t sleep.

No, he was watching the rise and fall of Aziraphale’s chest, letting relief enveloping him like a warm blanket. Aziraphale slept peacefully, unaware of Raphael’s internal thoughts; but that was alright. 

Finally, after a year of worrisome days and exhausted nights, he was done healing Aziraphale.

The damage War had inflicted to both Aziraphale’s true and corporeal form had been severe, so much so that Raphael had been worried the demon would not survive it. He hadn’t been aware that a Horseperson could maim a demon like that, causing such damage that even Raphael would have difficulties healing it. Would that mean they could maim Raphael too? He had… never considered that anything would truly hurt him instead of simply discorporating him, save for Hellfire perhaps.

He had spent countless nights healing both of Aziraphale’s forms, using the energy from his own core, pouring everything he had into it. All for a sliver of hope that Aziraphale would survive. And he  _ did  _ survive. He did not get discorporated, like War had threatened. Raphael had wept tears of joy as his Soulmate managed to pull through one critical condition after another. He had been so close to losing his Soulmate—  _ lose _ him, in every sense of the word.

But now it was over. His Soulmate would live. 

Now all he had to do was wait.

—

The cottage they lived in was sitting deep in a wood. It had been abandoned when Raphael found it, entirely reclaimed by nature. Its previous owner had been an elderly man who lived alone after the typhus had claimed his Soulmate and their son. He died on his bed, and that was how Raphael had found his remains. After he buried the old man’s bones, he had set Aziraphale on the bed and began to heal him.

He didn’t do anything to fix the cottage until he was sure Aziraphale wouldn’t discorporate. Then, he began to fix the dilapidated roof and walls, one plank after another, shaping it into a semblance of its previous glory. Once it was done and Aziraphale still had not awakened yet, Raphael began to attack the garden. It reminded him about the peaceful time on the bank of the Yangtze River, about his hydrangeas and the life they had shared there. It made him wish they could go back to that time, and the thought… caused an ache. He ached less when he worked, so he worked.

There was a village sitting at the edge of the wood. Raphael had visited it at times when he was feeling claustrophobic by the cottage walls and the looming trees outside their house. Often he would stroll through the market, not buying anything but keeping his ears open about the latest gossip. There was no news about the crusade here, in this peaceful little village, and Raphael didn’t know if he should have been grateful or not. 

It seemed so unfair, that people died from war across the sea while this little village sat untouched, its inhabitants blissfully unaware of the horror their fellow humans had suffered. Weren’t they the children of Adam and Eve, all of them? Why couldn’t they all live together in peace, like God had told them to? Why did they have to fight with one another?

Questions filled Raphael’s head like a chaotic nebula. Why hadd God let this happen? All of those people, regardless of faith, were Her children, weren’t they? And yet, their faith had pushed them to fight with one another. Their faith had made them kill and destroy each other.

Was this part of Her Great Plan too?

Raphael honestly didn’t know. He prayed and prayed, while he waited for Aziraphale to wake up, but he received no answer. No word. Nothing. It was as if—

— it was as if She had abandoned them.

Shaking, Raphael curled into himself and leaned his back to the side of the bed, where Aziraphale laid unconscious, unaware of his internal musings.

He was doubting Her — this had never happened before. He was an Archangel, for Heaven’s sake! He couldn’t be losing his faith to Her… could he? He was supposed to follow Her Plan unquestioningly and conscientiously, and yet… he found himself questioning Her.

The thought was unbearable to him, so he did the only thing he knew would distract him.

He went for a nightly walk.

There was a church in the village. It was small and its walls and roof were made of wood. It was not yet been consecrated, but he could feel that it was very well-loved by the locals. As he took a seat inside, his mind still troubled him, but he felt slightly more at peace.

“Hello? Who’s there?” a voice called out, and Raphael turned his gaze from the altar, only to find a priest walking into the room.

“Just a weary traveler, Father”, Raphael returned. “Peace be upon you.”

“Hmph”, the priest harrumphed. “You sound like a Saracen.”

Raphael was taken aback by his hostility.

“Does it matter if I’m a Saracen or no? We are all children of the God”, he offered peacefully, but his heart was breaking. So he had been wrong; even here, in this small and supposedly peaceful village, sign of hatred was still present.

“Saracens are not welcome here”, the priest returned. “It’s best that you leave.”

“I will leave, but first”, Raphael paused, and with a sigh, materialized his wings and halo. The light emanating from his halo had obscured his corporeal form, and the priest had found himself unable to gaze at him without blinding himself.

“P̩̥͍̯̥̙e̼ͅr͚͎̞h͇̻̗̩a͉̙̙̫͎̙̻p̙͎͉̱͎s i̘t͔̞͎͇ͅ ̗͕͔͍̜w̭̰̱̦̜o̦̺̲̯u͖l̹̼̺͎d͔̘̮̥̮ ̬b̩̖̗̝͙e͈̻͔͕̝ b͇e̳̜̬s̜͕͖̜t̻̮͇͇ ̪̭i̮͍̼͈f̗͓ ̤̼̖̯̪y̻̦̫̩o̺͔̝͔͈͙u͖ t͚͉͕r͉͔̥̻̬̞ͅe̙̳̼͉a̮̞̘̹ț̳̺ ͕͖e̩̖̪̻͔a̱̩̹̻̦͍c̹̺͉h͉̟ ̜̖̼̮ọ̳t̖͓͉͕h̜̦͈̪͓͚ḛ̘̲͉r ͔̥̻̬̰ki̹̰̭̩̱n͍͉d͖l͚͉͓̩̻y̮͇ ̟͓̗͕̺̺n̤̰̳̜̗̩ͅe͉͉̗ͅx̮̫̠t̘͓̬̖̤̙̰ ti͕̬͈̯̦m̜̺̫̼̖̩ẹ̻̖̺̤̭”, he said, his voice echoing.

And then he walked out of the church, leaving one terrified priest behind.

—

Raphael did not go to the village again the day after that night. No, instead he chose to sit by Aziraphale’s side.

There was a chair in the cottage. Raphael had fixed it, and now he was sitting backwards in the chair, with his arms folded on the top of the back and his legs straddling the seat, as he watched Aziraphale sleep.

It had been days since he was done healing Aziraphale, but his Soulmate had yet to wake up and Raphael was growing restless. Had he done something wrong? Did he not heal all of Aziraphale’s wounds?

“Why aren’t you waking up?” Raphael asked to Aziraphale’s sleeping form. His hair had grown slightly and Raphael couldn’t stop himself from touching it. It was so soft, like how he imagined novae felt between his fingertips. “Please wake up already, or else— or else I won’t talk to you anymore.”

There was of course no answer. But Raphael was not giving up; he had never been known to give up easily. So he stood up from the chair and puttered around inside the cottage.

The cottage had a small kitchen, though like any other part of it, it had been reclaimed by nature. Raphael worked to clean up the weeds and rot he could find in there, before setting up the ironware he had owned for two millennia. He had kept them in his room back in the Head Office, and  _ miraculously _ , they were still in mint condition even though they were older than some of the civilizations on Earth.

Now, here was the thing. Raphael knew that Aziraphale liked food, so he was going to try his hand at cooking. He hoped that, somehow, Aziraphale would awaken at the smell of his food.

He decided a homemade bread should be simple enough. Humans had been making bread for millennia. It would be easy to gather the ingredients from the wood and—if necessary—from the nearby village too. So after making sure that Aziraphale was all tucked in and warm, he set out into the woods, carrying a basket with him.

The wood in daylight was… rather peaceful, Raphael found. It was quiet and undisturbed, and the cacophony of noises, of birds chirping and winds ruffling the leaves, calmed his senses. He ventured deep into the trees in search of fruits, and found wild currants, berries, and nuts as he did.

A bird landed on the lid of his basket as Raphael took a quick break under a fig tree. It was a normal bird, and it focused its beady eyes on Raphael.

“Do you want some fruits?” Raphael offered, putting a few berries on his palm and outstretched his hand. The bird hopped into his hand and swallowed a few of the berries, before flying away.

After that, he continued his search of fruits deep into the wood, where he found more wild animals. The forest was running over with them, from smaller critters like squirrels and frogs, to bigger games like deer. It was a wonder that the humans in the nearby village hadn’t hunted them to extinction.

He did find an injured deer, deep in the forest, away from the well-worn path. It seemed that a hunter had shot her with an arrow but was unable to catch up with her. Raphael considered his options: he could heal the deer and the hunter would return empty handed, or he could leave her alone.

In the end, he had decided to leave her alone, but not without expending a bit of miracle so that the hunter would find her quickly, before easing the deer of her suffering by killing her.

“THAT WAS KIND OF YOU”, a voice caused Raphael to jump, but when he turned, it was only Death standing behind him, their cloak billowing like windswept void.

“Eh. Was for the best, really”, Raphael returned with a shrug. “By the way, your acquaintance nearly killed my Soulmate.”

“BUT HE DID NOT DIE, DID HE?” Death said. “DID YOU REMEMBER WHAT SHE SAID?”

“She’ll get her spoils one way or another, but—  _ Shit! _ ” Raphael cursed. “Shit! The refugees, the ones I sent to Ashkelon—”

“WERE TAKEN BY WAR IN THE BATTLE OF ASHKELON”, Death’s voice was calm as it echoed in the wood.

_ Lord _ . “All of them?” Raphael asked, not wanting to believe. Death’s silence was telling enough, though, and Raphael felt numb all over. “Why are you telling me this?”

“YOUR ACTIONS HAVE REPERCUSSIONS, ARCHANGEL RAPHAEL”, Death told him.

Raphael sank to the ground, his head in his hands. While he was healing Aziraphale in this secluded part of the world, away from the war, the refugees he had saved were slaughtered. He had saved them from death in Jerusalem, but they had still been slaughtered.

Because he had abandoned them. He was supposed to protect them, but he had abandoned them for his Soulmate.

Raphael felt… numb.

“YOU NEED TO REMEMBER THAT WE ARE THE PERSONIFICATIONS OF HUMANITY’S WORST NIGHTMARE”, Death said. “WE ARE INEVITABLE, INEFFABLE IF YOU COULD SAY.”

“Was that a threat?” Raphael looked up to the empty sockets of Death’s eyes.

“A REMINDER”, Death returned. “PEACE BE UPON YOU, RAPHAEL.”

And then, just like that, Death was gone.

Raphael was still mulling over what Death had said when he returned to the cottage, using his Soul bond to guide him towards Aziraphale.

If the Horsepeople were inevitable, if War and Famine and Pestilence were inevitable, did that mean that there was nothing he could do to save humanity from them? Sure, Death was inevitable to all of humanity, but surely something could be done to prevent humanity from falling to War, Famine, and Pestilence?

Was this part of Her Plan too?

Raphael banished the thought away from his head once he entered the cottage and found Aziraphale’s sleeping figure. He had made his choice — to be with Aziraphale. So now he had to accept the consequences of his decision and bear the burden in silence.

Once he was back in the kitchen, he miracled up some flour, sugar, and yeast, mixing them together with warm water, fruits, and nuts he had gathered, before working on the dough. As he worked, he couldn’t help but imagining Aziraphale’s face when he was eating the bread, his face lighting up as his round cheeks reddening from happiness. 

Raphael smiled to himself. That lifted up his spirits.

— 

The bread came out right because Raphael had  _ expected _ it to. He left it to cool on the table, before returning to Aziraphale’s side.

Aziraphale was still asleep, his chest rising and falling, and he looked… so peaceful right now. It would be a crime to wake him up, Raphael thought, but he had to. He had been asleep for a year. While Raphael had slept far longer for a lesser reason, Raphael couldn’t bear the thought of going through another year of watching him sleep.

So he leaned over and whispered in Aziraphale’s ear.

“Wake up, sunshine.”

And just like that, like a spell, Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open.

“Good morning”, Raphael greeted his Soulmate, with a smile as bright as his halo, and giggled when Aziraphale squinted his eyes confusedly.

“Why are you smiling like a buffoon?” Aziraphale groaned out, rubbing sleep off his eyes. “What did I miss?”

“I made you some fruit bread”, Raphael told him. 

“A fruit bread”, Aziraphale repeated, still confused.

“And we have a year to catch up”, Raphael continued.

He helped Aziraphale to sit up, before sitting down on the bed himself. His hands linked with Aziraphale’s, as if he still couldn’t believe this, couldn’t believe that his Soulmate was finally waking up from his one-year slumber.

“Uh”, Aziraphale hummed, snapping Raphael out of his reverie.

“Ah, yes. The fruit bread”, he said, before standing up once again. He gathered up the wooden tray from the table before gently setting it down to the bed, on Aziraphale’s lap.

Aziraphale looked at it like it was something foreign, but he closed his eyes and took a deep, deep breath. Whatever he smelled, it made him smile and he opened his eyes to look at Raphael in the eye.

“This smells lovely”, Aziraphale praised, and Raphael’s smile brightened just a little bit.

Raphael was still smiling while he retold the events of the last year, albeit a little bit wanly. The frantic flight from Jerusalem, the exhaustion that was taking him before he decided to land in this part of the wood, the exhausting nights where he stayed up to heal Aziraphale. Aziraphale took it all in quietly while he ate. Finally, once his story was over, Raphael stared at Aziraphale, still not believing his eyes.

“It was that bad, huh…?” Aziraphale said as he set down his fork.

Raphael’s smile waned a little. “I thought I was going to lose you”, he said. “Like,  _ actually lose _ you. Not just… your corporeal form.”

“I had no idea the Horsepeople were that strong”, Aziraphale commented.

“Me neither”, Raphael returned. “But we know now.”

“Yes, indeed”, Aziraphale said.

Raphael reached for Aziraphale’s hand and rubbed his thumb on the pale white skin. His skin was warm to the touch and their shared bond sang inside their chest at their closeness. If Aziraphale minded the contact, he didn’t say anything.

He considered telling Aziraphale about his meeting with Death, but the thought was… daunting, and he shuddered slightly as he recalled the meeting.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Aziraphale asked.

“I met Death today”, Raphael answered before he could stop himself.

“Wh— You  _ what?! _ ” Aziraphale squawked.

“We just chatted”, Raphael told Aziraphale quickly. He didn’t want his Soulmate to worry.

“Chatted”, Aziraphale repeated. “About?”

“Remember Jerusalem?” Raphael sighed. “I… might have had made a mistake when I decided to save you instead of accompanying them.”

And by mistake, he meant he had inadvertently causing the death of nearly a hundred refugees, in exchange to save one life. One demon.

“Oh”, Aziraphale said, and just like that, Raphael was… touched, with how in sync they were. “Well, thank you for deciding to save me, despite everything. I’m still alive thanks to you.”

Raphael still didn’t know what to say.

“Did you regret saving me?” Aziraphale asked, and Raphael felt a jolt of surprise.

Did he regret it?

“No”, Raphael answered. “Never. Not when it’s you.”

Another stretch of silence, before Raphael broke it.

“But it sounds… selfish, don’t you think?” he asked. “Saving my own Soulmate, when those humans were… Those humans had Soulmates too.”

“Perhaps”, Aziraphale said, with a slight shrug. “I cannot decide it for you, my dear. My morality is different from yours.”

“I want to hear what you think”, Raphael told him.

“Are you sure?” Aziraphale asked.

Raphael nodded firmly.

“I think”, Aziraphale paused, licking his lips. “I think you’re allowed to be selfish every now and then. I think you’ve done a lot to save humanity, and it wouldn’t hurt to be selfish every now and then.”

“But I’m an angel”, Raphael countered. “Selfishness… shouldn’t be in our nature.”

Aziraphale shrugged again. “It’s what I think. Like I said, my morality is different from yours.”

Raphael thought it over, and over, and over, before deciding that he should probably save it for later. After all, his own Soulmate had just woken up from his one-year slumber.

“Thank you, I guess”, Raphael told him. “And I’m glad that you’re here… alive.”

“As I am”, Aziraphael returned.


	12. Bristol (1349 AD)

The Great Plague.

That was what people called one of the most devastating pandemics in human history. An apt name, as it had taken thousands upon thousands of lives across the globe, starting from Asia and spreading to other places on Earth, only to reach its peak in Europe.

Raphael sat on the steps in front of a church, his hands linked together under his chin as he contemplated. He knew that this plague was the work of Pestilence — there was no way a plague this widespread could be happening without their meddling.

And oh, Pestilence truly did not discriminate. They had taken anyone and everyone that their plague managed to touch, regardless of faith, origin, skin color, and social status. It had been going on for two years already, without any sign of stopping, and Raphael was beginning to get… concerned.

The plague reminded Raphael of his talk with Death, about the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse and their inevitability, being humanity’s worst and greatest fears. But it felt… wrong, to do absolutely nothing to prevent what was coming (had been coming for years) and let humanity to wither away and perish. There wouldn’t be humanity anymore if the plague kept going on, this way.

People were literally dying in the streets, not by the hand of other humans, but by something that was too small for them to comprehend; a bacteria that lived inside fleas and carried by rats, which then transferred it to humans. 

Now, humanity in general had not discovered germ theory yet, so they could not comprehend the origin of the disease. Some of them believed that the conjunction of three planets had caused the great pestilence in the air. Others believed that the disease was a punishment by God for their sins. 

The latter angered Raphael to no end. People began to single out who they deemed too full of sin to survive, and they exterminated various groups of people, such as Jewish people, Romani people, beggars, foreigners, and lepers, in hope that they would make the plague disappear.  _ As if _ that would make the plague disappear.

Raphael had been coming to some Jewish enclaves around Britain to rest, and some people from the church came and accused them for poisoning the wells, which they thought had caused the plague. They took people from their houses and tortured them until they died or lied that they had indeed poisoned the wells, and then they burned people alive for it.

Of course, Raphael had done everything he could to protect these people, but the discrimination was too widespread, and he couldn’t be in multiple places at once  _ while _ he still had to heal the sick. 

There should really be a special place in Hell, Raphael supposed, reserved for people who discriminated against others based on what they couldn’t control. Heaven certainly did not want them — those sinful souls should’ve gone straight to Hell. but he’d never been to Hell before, so he didn’t know.

As for the plague, Raphael would honestly do anything within his power to cure everyone who had been sick and dying from it. He could go around healing the plague the old-fashioned way, but there were only so many people he could heal without depleting his quota of miracles; and he  _ had _ depleted his quota of miracles several times already. He couldn’t just leave them to their fate, dying and desperate.

However, after his encounter with War, which almost resulted in the loss of Aziraphale’s very existence, Raphael knew he couldn’t stop Pestilence by charging in blindly head on. No, what he was doing undoubtedly would attract Pestilence’s attention and risk his own life. And he couldn’t do anything to help humanity if his own life was lost in the process.

Right now, he was at a loss about what to do. The sun was high above his head and the streets were empty. People were too scared to leave their house, terrified that they would contract the disease, or be persecuted for ‘spreading the plague.’ 

“Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here”, a familiar demonic figure approached him from the bottom of the steps, breaking Raphael out of his musings.

“Hey”, Raphael returned wearily.

Aziraphale blinked. “What? No the usual greeting? ‘Peace be upon you, Aziraphale’, or something like that?” Aziraphale asked, but his smile turned awkward after Raphael had refused to deign him with any sort of response. “You’re upset.”

Raphael shrugged.

“You’re upset, I get it. You feel like you’re back in Jerusalem, but this is not Jerusalem. There’s no enemy you can put to sleep here”, Aziraphale said, and  _ ouch _ . That hit the mark.

“How did you—”

“Know?” Aziraphale finished for him. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Raphael scrunched his face for three full seconds, before it hit him like a lightning bolt.

_ Oh _ .

Of course Aziraphale would feel the same with him — he Fell because of his kindness, his kindness that had not eroded even after he Fell, his kindness that had made him protect the Al-Aqsa Mosque from War even nearly at the cost of his own life. The same kindness had to bleed and ache at the sight of people dying left and right and… Raphael was at a loss about what to say.

“Sorry”, Raphael murmured. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, my dear”, Aziraphale said kindly. “Kind is a four-letter word, and I’d rather… not be known for it. They already called me a ‘good’ demon. Don’t need them to add ‘kind’ too.”

Raphael stared at Aziraphale, wondering why being called a good demon was a bad thing. Had to be Hell stuff that he couldn’t understand.

“Alright then, now, can you tell me why are you moping here, in front of this particular church?” Aziraphale asked. “Also, I’m sorry if I look up to you like this, but I literally cannot climb one step further up. Consecrated ground, you see.”

“S’fine”, Raphael muttered. “Also, I did not mope.”

“You did, my dear”, Aziraphale argued.

“Did not.”

“You rather did.”

Raphael pouted.

“Thank you for proving my point”, Aziraphale said. “Now, why don’t I tempt you for lunch?”

“You know I don’t eat”, Raphael answered with a sigh.

“Some wine, then”, Aziraphale returned. “Come on. You can’t keep moping like this just because some holier-than-thou priests think you are Devil’s incarnate for suggesting that the plague has nothing to do with punishment from God. Those priests, if you must know, are contemplating to persecute you for being a foreigner too, right this moment.”

“Wait, how did you—” Raphael paused, before deciding that it wasn’t worth his time. “Nevermind. Alright, let’s go.”

Raphael walked down the steps and the two of them began walking down the street.

It felt like they were in some kind of a dead city, where no one dared to leave their house. Some beggars and street urchins still lined the street, though. Poor lot, they had nowhere else to go and no one to turn to. Raphael pitied them, but it wasn’t like he could do anything to help with the circumstance of their birth.

In the end, all Raphael could do was to help them now. He paused a couple times as they walked. He ended the suffering of those who were too weak to properly fight the disease with a heavy hand and heavier heart. They passed away peacefully and painlessly, as if they were merely asleep, and Raphael made sure the bacteria inside them wouldn’t infect other people. Those who still had a fighting chance, he healed and bolstered their immune system, so they would never contract the disease again.

But there were still too many of them who were too weak. Mostly, they were children — street urchins and suchlike — and after the fifteenth time Raphael took the life of a homeless child away, he felt like he was going to cry.

“What you did was a kindness”, Aziraphale told him, his hand was gentle on Raphael’s shoulder, and it soothed him just for a little bit. “They were too weak, and if you healed them, they would just contract the disease once again. The second time, they would  _ suffer _ without you around.”

“I know”, Raphael returned, feeling numb all over. He stood up and miracled away dirt and germs from the front of his robe.

Was the plague really inevitable? Was there nothing that he could do to save these people?

And was this part of Her Plan too?

“She shouldn’t have done this…” Raphael whispered as they walked by a dead father who was hugging his dead daughter close to his chest. “This was too much. She shouldn’t have tested them to destruction.”

“I honestly have a few mean things for Her right now. Do you want me to speak them?” Aziraphale offered, and Raphael laughed wetly as he wiped the tears off his face.

“Perhaps later?” he returned diplomatically, before he turned his eyes downward. “If only I could stop Pestilence…”

“They would destroy you, and you know it”, Aziraphale warned him, reaching for his hand as if Raphael would go and challenge Pestilence right in that moment. “And unlike you, I am not a healer. I cannot heal you like you healed me.”

“There should be  _ something _ I can do”, Raphael whined, before sinking down the side of a building and hugging himself. He felt like he just committed horrible, terrible Sin. His heart was heavy, and it felt like he was dragging something behind him. “I’m—”

“— the Archangel of Healing, yes, I know”, Aziraphale continued. “And you’ve made a difference today. You healed those you could heal and eased the suffering of those you couldn’t. For someone who is not a God, you’ve done  _ plenty _ , my dear.”

Raphael felt like his throat was closing, and he swallowed thickly.

“Thank you, Aziraphale”, he said. “That— that means a lot.”

“Anytime”, Aziraphale returned gently, before offering his hand to him. “Now, come on. I have a place for you to stay. There’s wine, and we can drown ourselves until neither of us can’t think.”

“Oh? Is this a temptation?” Raphael teased, but he took Aziraphale’s hand and allowed him to guide him.

“You could say that”, Aziraphale returned with a coy smile and a wiggle.

He took Raphael to a building, which turned out to be a tavern or something like it, with a few people sitting inside. Their expressions were nearly identical — glum, as if the end of the world was upon them and there was nothing they could do about it. Raphael supposed they were right, in a way.

“Come on”, Aziraphale guided Raphael to occupy one of the tables.

They drank and drank until Raphael lost track of the time. They had to have been there forever — at least, it felt like that. The sky was turning darker and darker outside the window, and the tavern was getting more crowded.

Unfortunately, the drink seemed to have the opposite effect than was intended. Raphael couldn’t help but think about the faces of the children he killed today and in turn, consumed more alcohol to shut his own traitorous thoughts up. It worked, but only for a moment.

“I didn’t  _ want _ to”, Raphael choked out after six glasses in. “I didn’t want to kill those children. Ya know that, don’t you?”

“I know, my dear”, Aziraphale returned, sipping his own drink. “Slow down a little. I’m still on my third drink.”

“I would’ve— I would’ve traded my own life to heal them if I could. Ya know that, right?”

“Now, now. What would happen to those you haven’t healed yet if you perished before you get to them?” Aziraphale asked back.

“I would’ve healed them all, in exchange for my life”, Raphael answered determinedly.

“What would happen to me, then?” Aziraphale asked again.

“To you?” Raphael blinked confusedly. Everything seemed to slow in that moment, and Raphael’s attention focused solely on his Soulmate — or well, he tried, at least.

“Yes, my dear”, Aziraphale answered. “Eternity is a long, long way. If you perish now, what would happen to me, then?”

Raphael didn’t know how to answer that. Aziraphale would be fine; he was a demon, an immortal. But living without his Soulmate… That would have been a miserable existence. Raphael didn’t know what would happen to him if Aziraphale ceased to exist one day.

He stared at the inside of his tankard, wishing that it held the secret of the universe, before downing it in several consecutive gulps. That was his seventh, and Raphael’s head felt heavier than before.

“I don’t wan— don’t want you to d-die”, Raphael managed to sob out and laid his head down on the filthy table.

“I don’t want me to die either, but we were not talking about me dying”, Aziraphale said, and Raphael could feel his hand mussing with Raphael’s hair. It felt… nice. 

“Come on now, my dear. I think you’ve had enough of this.” Aziraphale’s voice was kind, but his hand was firm as it helped Raphael up to his feet. Raphael swayed drunkenly, but Aziraphale propped him up straighter. “I have a room upstairs. Think you can work with the stairs?”

“No promisssse”, Raphael slurred.

He did, miraculously, manage to climb up the stairs. The ascent felt like forever, and Raphael felt like he was going up to the Head Office instead of… wherever Aziraphale was taking him. He giggled at this thought — the other Archangels would be so scandalized if they saw him in this miserable, inebriated state. He could practically imagine Gabriel’s face; a mix of disgust and horror.

“Good, you’re all giggly now”, Aziraphale sounded amused.

“You’re not like, like the other Archangelssss”, Raphael hissed out. “They’re ssso, ssso sssstuffy.”

“Thank you, I try”, Aziraphale sounded pleased.

“Even, even Gabir— Gabriel. He’sss like, the ssstuffiest”, Raphael told Aziraphale. “Big, big dummy.”

“I must say, if I had known you would bash the Heavenly Host in your drunken state, I would’ve taken you out for drinks more often”, Aziraphale said with a chuckle.

They finally stopped in front of a room, and Raphael stared at the door, wondering how to open it. But he didn’t have to wonder any longer; Aziraphale opened it with one hand and guided Raphael to the single bed in the middle of the room.

“Go rest now, my dear”, Aziraphale told Raphael.

“You sleepin’ too?” Raphael asked, blinking his eyes in what he hoped was tempting. Aziraphale let out a laugh.

“I will, my dear. Just need to do a couple things”, Aziraphale answered, before he walked out of the door. He stood in the doorway, a smile on his face, and it was the most beautiful thing Raphael had ever seen, like, ever. “Go rest up. You need it.”

The bed was soft and it felt as if Raphael sank into it when he laid down on it. Raphael curled on the bed, feeling so alone without Aziraphale by his side, but still he closed his eyes. He didn’t think about anything again.

For now.


	13. Bristol (1749 AD)

“—phael. Raphael”, a voice pulled at his consciousness, so loud in the emptiness of space and rather insistent. Raphael opened his eyes slightly, and time felt like it trickled by so slowly. Like… well, like whatever it was that trickled so slowly. 

Through his pounding head, Raphael realized that he was in a room, a rather well-kept room. But the room seemed odd, different — it was a different room than the one he fallen asleep in, and Raphael was… confused. Why was he in a different room? Did someone move him while he slept?

His eyes searched around to find whoever had woken him up. Probably Aziraphale. He was there when Raphael had gone to sleep, wasn’t he?

“Aziraphale?” he managed to call out, but his voice came out nearly unintelligible. His tongue felt so thick and his mouth dry. It felt like he had fallen asleep for years — but that was impossible, wasn’t it? There was no way he could sleep so soundly for years while there were people who needed him to heal them from the plague.

“What? Who’s—” the voice made Raphael turn, and he saw someone he would never expect to stand by his bed. His bed. He was on a bed, right, because sleeping.

How long had he been sleeping again?

“Who’s Aziraphale?” Gabriel asked. There was genuine curiosity in his voice.

“My Sss— Soulmate. Core-bonded”, Raphael answered as he rubbed sleep away from his face. “Nevermind. Why are you here? And where am I?”

Gabriel blinked.

“Raphael, I’m here because you haven’t submitted your report for forty decades. That’s four centuries!” Gabriel sounded perplexed, but Raphael wasn’t paying attention to that fact.

No, rather, he was paying attention to a particular string of words that the other Archangel had said.

“ _ Four _ centuries?!” Raphael placed his hand on his forehead as he still tried to take it in. Had he really been asleep for four centuries? But how could that be possible? Usually when he slept, he would wake up when there was something that needed his attention. Mostly for his decadal report, but sometimes it was matters that needed his healing expertise.

Four centuries. Had he really been asleep for that long?

“I’m— I— How could this  _ happen? _ ” Raphael still couldn’t believe it.

“Raphael, are you okay?” Gabriel asked.

“No, I’m not! I—” Raphael threw his hands up into the air and made complicated gesture. “I slept for  _ centuries! _ What if I missed something important? What about the Great Plague?!”

“Raphael, if this is about your missing paperwork, then it’s alright”, Gabriel tried to reassure him. “As for the Great Plague, well… Pestilence sure has brought a lot of souls in for the last four centuries, haven’t they?”

“For the last four centuries?!” Raphael cried out. “You mean there were  _ more _ than one plague?!”

Raphael placed his head in his hands and let out a long groan. How could this be possible? How could he sleep through it all? He was supposed to be out there, healing people or easing their suffering. 

But as Raphael calmed himself down, he finally could feel it.

The room was  _ full _ of Aziraphale’s aura.

Was this Aziraphale’s doing? Had he used his demonic miracle somehow so that Raphael wouldn’t wake up? But why? What would that accomplish? And why didn’t Aziraphale say anything before Raphael went to sleep?

As he thought it over, he felt… something like betrayal. Aziraphale had betrayed him, betrayed his trust. He made Raphael sleep without permission, and it had consequences. People died from the plague, and Raphael had not been there to stop it.

Perhaps there was a reason, a small voice in his head whispered. He wanted to believe it, that there was another reason why Aziraphale made him sleep for a whole century. Perhaps if he found out Aziraphale’s reason behind it, it would make everything okay.

But no— whatever the reason, it  _ shouldn’t  _ be okay. Aziraphale shouldn’t be betraying his trust like this. Raphael couldn’t believe that Aziraphale had gone and done that.

Raphael turned to Gabriel, who still looked at him with confusion in his face, and suddenly felt like he really wanted to cry.

—

A lot of things had happened throughout the centuries while he slept. As if the deaths from from the Great Plague (or rather, a series of Great Plagues) were not enough, war after war had popped up like mushrooms after the rain, leaving even more deaths in their wake. 

But not everything was bad. Human technology had advanced beyond Raphael’s imagination. The Renaissance was in full swing, and from it, spawned the Scientific Revolution that marked the emergence of modern science during the early modern period.

Raphael read about this stuff from his office back at the Head Office. He had been recalled thanks to his backlog of paperwork.

As it turned out, there was a lot of paperwork that needed to be done from when Raphael had been asleep, and it had piled up like a towering mountain. Some of it piled around his desk, completely surrounding him with papers from all directions. Not to mention that Gabriel had woken him up at the start of Ramadan, which meant more paperwork.

He didn’t know where Aziraphale had gone — probably around and powerless, as it was Ramadan, and all demons supposedly were chained during the Holy Month — but Raphael didn’t care. He was still angry at his Soulmate. He hadn’t been expecting Aziraphale to betray his trust like that. He had been distraught from all the death caused by the plague, and he had trusted Aziraphale to console him during such a trying time, yet Aziraphale had  _ tricked _ him.

He poured his anger into his paperwork, attacking it with such ferocity that would have scared off lesser angels when they went to report to him. The death toll from the plagues and war that had been happening for the last four centuries was  _ massive _ , and there was  _ a lot _ of paperwork.

Raphael was rubbing the bridge of his nose as he was taking a short break, when someone called him. He looked up from his desk, and saw Michael entering his office.

“Peace be upon you, Michael”, Raphael greeted her.

“Peace be upon you too, Raphael”, Michael returned, as she approached him. “Can we… talk for a little bit?”

“Of course”, Raphael turned his attention away from the paperwork and waited for Michael to say something.

“I have been noticing that—”

“That I’m rather distraught?” Raphael asked, sighing. “Yeah, I’m just… I just have a lot on my mind, is all.”

Michael blinked, before continuing. “Actually, I have not noticed that. I was meaning to say, that I have been noticing that Gabriel was rather… different, as of late, don’t you think?”

Raphael was taken aback, blinking at her in return. He tried to think of the times he met with Gabriel and found that he couldn’t find anything different with the other Archangel. Gabriel had been… fine when Raphael had accompanied him to Mecca, but they hadn’t seen each other again after that, until Gabriel woke him up recently — and Raphael had been rather distraught.

“I— I’m sorry, Michael, but I’m afraid I didn’t notice anything different with Gabriel”, Raphael admitted. “Why did you think that he’s any different?”

“Oh, well”, Michael sighed. “He has been rather distraught, as of late, and his temper has been rather short. He has snapped at lesser angels and he has barely gotten any work done.”

Raphael had rarely seen Gabriel lately, but perhaps that was because Raphael had been mostly cooped up inside his office since returning to the Head Office.

“I know that… you two have rather complicated relationships with your Soulmates”, Michael continued carefully. “I hypothesized that it’s what has been causing his change.”

“Right… and you don’t think it’s affected me?” Raphael tried to keep his voice steady.

“It’s… hard, to have a Soulmate that is not capable of loving you back”, Michael said. “But while you have been managing yourself rather well, Gabriel is… not.”

Raphael ignored the stab as he thought about Aziraphale being incapable of loving him, and focused his attention on the last part. “Oh? Do tell?”

“Gabriel… he has not yet met with his soulmate, has he?” Michael asked. “And while I cannot claim to understand how that must feel, I know that ignoring your Soul bond could have a detrimental effect to your core. It will make you less balanced, less tethered, and more unhinged, for a start.”

Raphael hadn’t known about that. He wondered how Michael knew about that.

“Well, if you haven’t noticed it, then I’m sure it’s just my imagination”, Michael said. “Do take care, Raphael. Oh, and one last thing?”

Raphael flicked his eyes back to her.

“Do not let that demon get to you. You are an Archangel, he’s just a nobody demon”, she said, before turning to leave the room.

_ What the Heavens _ , Raphael thought.

“Michael”, he called out, and Michael stopped in her tracks, turning to face him again with half smile on her face. “I love him.”

Michael’s smile slipped away, but Raphael was not done yet.

“I love him, that nobody demon. And my love can’t be wrong, right? Because he’s my Soulmate”, he said. 

“You’re not supposed to fall for him”, Michael chided him. “It’s a test of your faith.”

“It’s not”, Raphael argued. “How can it be a test, when my love for him is inevitable? You could even say that it’s ineffable. You can’t deny this.”

“He’s a  _ demon _ , Raphael”, Michael hissed, before looking around, as if trying to make sure that no one had been eavesdropping on them, but Raphael didn’t care.

“And I love that demon”, Raphael returned with such a certainty. He would shout it from the top of the Universe, let everyone knew about how much he loved his Soulmate. He never made an effort to hide it before, and he wasn’t going to start now.

“What if you Fall?” Michael asked, and Raphael could hear the worry in her voice.

“I won’t Fall, not because of this”, Raphael answered.

Michael looked like she was going to say something, but instead she gave him a cryptic smile and left the room, her steps hasty as if she couldn’t leave fast enough.


	14. London (1801 AD)

It took Raphael a total of fifty years to finish his paperwork, and another two years to submit it through. When he was done, he didn’t waste one more second and descended from the Head Office and back down to Earth.

When he returned to Earth, it was as if he stepped into a whole different world. Everything was so new and so unfamiliar. London looked way different than he remembered, for a start. There were more tall buildings that reached up towards the sky, leaving tall shadows in their wakes. More importantly, Pestilence had been defeated thanks to the advancement of medical science and technology, and the Industrial Revolution was in full swing. 

Raphael stared at this new world perplexedly, before clumsily navigating his way through the street, avoiding carriages and whatnot. He had been out of touch from the humanity for so long that it would take awhile to catch up with what he had been missing and how to blend in with the current time period.

But he could do that later. First, he needed to find Aziraphale.

He had been so angry at Aziraphale, hot searing anger that burned inside his chest, burned at the papers he had been working on on occasion. It took him awhile, but eventually he accepted that Aziraphale wouldn’t do what he did, not without reason. And Raphael  _ itched _ to find out what that reason was. 

Michael had been right; of course, she usually was. Raphael had been ignoring his Soul bond when he had been back in the Head Office, and it made him… less connected to himself. It was as if he had been going through his days floating, untethered to his corporeal form. It was confusing and terrifying at the same time.

Now that he didn’t have to ignore his bond, it thrummed with a renewed energy. It guided him to Aziraphale, like a compass. 

And that was how he found him at St. James’ Park.

Aziraphale looked… different, yet the same. His hair was shorter than Raphael remembered it being, and he had sideburns now too. He wore an icy blue coat that matched his tophat, and he carried a cane with a carved crow on its handle. When the two of them caught sight of each other, Aziraphale’s posture changed, as if he was a child that had been caught doing something bad.

“Peace be upon you, Aziraphale”, Raphael greeted.

Aziraphale let out a ‘tsk’, but then his expression shifted into something resembling fondness.

“You’re not… mad at me?” Aziraphale asked.

“I’m done being mad”, Raphael said, and that was the truth. “Now I want to know why you did it.”

Aziraphale looked around nervously, before turning back to Raphael.

“I have a place. We can talk there”, he said.

“You’re not going to make me sleep for another four centuries, are you?” Raphael teased, but Aziraphale’s face morphed into guilt. Raphael felt bad immediately.

“No, no. No tricks, this time”, Aziraphale said hurriedly.

“Alright, then.”

As they walked to Aziraphale’s place, Raphael used the opportunity to observe his Soulmate. Four centuries had changed Aziraphale; he remembered Aziraphale would sway and wiggle when he talked, but there was none of that now. No, instead, he was holding himself tightly, as if he was holding something inside himself to keep it from spilling out. It was… saddening. It made Raphael wonder what had happened to Aziraphale during his four centuries of sleep.

Eventually, they reached a bookshop standing by an intersection — at least, Raphael assumed it was a bookshop according to its plaque ‘A.Z. Fell & Co. Antiquarian and Unusual Books’.

“A.Z. Fell?” Raphael asked. “What does ‘A.Z.’ stands for?”

“Amos Zigor”, Aziraphale answered curtly, and his answer made Raphael frown. However, he didn’t have the chance to ask about it further, as Aziraphale ushered him inside the bookshop.

It was a bookshop, alright. Shelves upon shelves were laid out haphazardly. In here, Raphael could feel the love emanating from all directions — this was Aziraphale’s love, and it was so palpable in the air that Raphael would fight whoever said that demons couldn’t love. He felt… almost jealous.

“Tea?” Aziraphale offered suddenly, breaking out Raphael out of his musings. 

“Ah”, Raphael didn’t know what to say, so he said, “Sure.”

Aziraphale disappeared between the shelves, only to return bringing two mugs. Raphael recognized one of them — it was the one he made back in Hattusa, three millennia ago, and it still looked as if it was new.

The other mug, the one that Aziraphale handed to him, had tiny little wings as its handle.

Raphael blinked, before gingerly reaching for the mug. It was well loved, though not as much as the bookshop, and the tea smelled absolutely exquisite. He took a sip of it, before toying with the mug in his hands.

There were so many things he wanted to say and so many questions to ask to Aziraphale, but he didn’t seem quite able to form words. There was a blockage in his throat, so he took another sip of his tea to clear it out.

“I…” Aziraphale began. “I assume you have questions.”

“Why did you make me sleep?” Raphael asked, before he could stop himself. And once he got it out, it seemed that he was unable to stop the stream of questions pouring out of him, like a dam breaking. “And why for four centuries? What had happened since then? Where were you when I woke up?”

“I— I  _ had  _ to”, Aziraphale stuttered out. “You— You were going to attract Pestilence, and we both knew that we wouldn’t be able to face another Horseperson. Not after War.”

For decades, Raphael had wondered if that was the reason why Aziraphale had made him sleep, suspected it even. Now, he had confirmation that it was true.

“I can’t let you face Pestilence, and call me selfish, but I can’t stand seeing you exhausting yourself both physically and mentally to cure every human you see from the plague.” Aziraphale looked positively pained when he kept going on, as if Raphael had pulled at the healing wound to open it anew.

“The plagues went on and on, one after another. Every time one would subside, I thought, ‘this time, this time I will wake him up’, but then there was the same plague coming up once again and again and again, and I— I—”

Raphael couldn’t stand seeing Aziraphale look like this, so he placed his mug on a nearby table and pulled him into a hug.

It wasn’t the first hug they had ever had, but it was the first one after… to be honest, Raphael couldn’t remember the last time they had hugged. Had it been that long since they had a hug?

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up”, Aziraphale choked out, and Raphael could feel the clothes he wore was growing wet.

“It’s okay”, Raphael said. “It was Ramadan, wasn’t it? You wouldn’t have been around, I assumed.”

“It was. I was”, Aziraphale said with a sigh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Nope, I was done being mad”, Raphael answered honestly.

“Well, you shouldn’t be”, Aziraphale returned. “I’m bad, and you should be mad at me.”

“I can’t be mad at you”, Raphael said. “Not for long, anyways. And I’ve had fifty years to go from mad to… not-mad.”

A wet laugh escaped Aziraphale.

“I’m sorry I made you sleep for centuries”, Aziraphale said. “And I’m sorry for— for making you miss your decadal reports. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you, I— I love you, Raphael.”

“Aziraphale…” Raphael felt like he was being punched. He wasn’t expecting Aziraphale to confess now of all time.

“I do. I— I’ve done a lot of thinking for four centuries, and—” Aziraphale paused, his grip tightening. “I found that I  _ can’t _ lose you. Not to Pestilence, or to anything else.”

“I can’t lose you either”, Raphael returned. They were still hugging, even now.

“I… I love you”, Aziraphale said again.

“And I love you”, Raphael returned, surprised at how easy it was to say it.

“I know. You told me.” Aziraphale giggled, and when he let go of the hug, some part of Raphael felt like they were gone with him.

“And you told me I was going too fast for you.” Raphael still remembered that day. Sometimes he could still feel the pain, fresh as if it was just yesterday.

“I know. I was not ready then”, Aziraphale said.

“And you’re ready now?” Raphael eyed Aziraphale.

“I think I am, now”, Aziraphale answered.

“Well, good”, Aziraphale returned. “Guess we have a lot to talk now?”

“Guess we do.”

They sat down on the same couch, knees pressing together. Raphael reached for Aziraphale’s hand and rubbed his thumb along the back of it, smiling so wide his cheeks ached. He had missed this; this closeness they shared, the casual touches, the silence that hung comfortably between them.

“So”, Aziraphale started. “Talk?”

“Yeah”, Raphael returned. “I missed you. Miss you so, so much.”

“Oh hush you, you sweet talker”, Aziraphale tutted, his cheeks reddening. “I’m going to put you to sleep again.”

“You can’t, because then you would be sad”, Raphael returned cheekily. “And when you’re sad, who’s going to cheer you up if it’s not me?”

Aziraphale rolled his odd eyes and huffed, but he smiled at him.

“So, no more putting me to sleep”, Raphael said. “No more tricking me into sleep. Or taking me to get drinks with the intention to put me to sleep.”

“What about when you are too exhausted to move?” Aziraphale asked. “Can’t I put you to sleep then?”

“Quit trying to find loopholes, you demon”, Raphael chuckled.

“I’m serious!” Aziraphale huffed. “You’re my soulmate. Shouldn’t I be able to take care of you?”

Something warm spread inside Raphael’s chest and Raphael’s smile widened.

“You can take care of me all you want”, he told Aziraphale. “But no more tricks, okay?”

“No more tricks. No more lies?” Aziraphale asked.

“No more lies”, Raphael agreed.

Silence hung between them like a comfortable blanket, and Raphael pressed his shoulder against Aziraphale’s. He was tempted to lay his head there, and, not seeing why he couldn’t, proceeded to do just that. He could feel Aziraphale stiffen briefly, but was quickly relaxing.

“So, Amos Zigor?” Raphael asked. “Burden and punishment. Isn’t that a bit on the nose?”

“It’s just a name, it doesn’t mean anything”, Aziraphale said with a shrug, jostling Raphael’s head slightly.

Raphael chewed the inside of his cheek, hesitating for a bit, before deciding that if he didn’t ask now, he would probably never know.

“When I saw you”, he began. “When I saw you just now, I saw… the way you carry yourself. It’s… I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you seem… troubled.”

“You would be troubled too if you put your own soulmate to sleep for four hundred years”, Aziraphale answered with a laugh that sounded empty. Raphael lifted his head and turned to face him.

“Tell me?” he asked. “Tell me what happened to you. I want to— no, I  _ need  _ to know.”

Aziraphale bit his lip, before letting out a sigh.

“I got discorporated”, was his answer.

“You—” Raphael couldn’t believe his ears. “You what?! When?! How?!”

“Fifty years after you woke up, three years ago”, Aziraphale answered. “I was… captured, during the French Revolution. I waited for you to come and rescue me, but you never came.”

_ Oh _ . “Oh shit, Aziraphale. I— I didn’t know, I’m sorry”, Raphael choked up, guilt settling heavily in his stomach. 

He tried to remember when it was supposed to have happened — he had to have felt it, the pain of the discorporation. War had said, all those years ago, that the pain from his soulmate’s discorporation would have caused him to discorporate too. But he couldn’t even remember feeling any pain during the time that Aziraphale mentioned.

“How did you get discorporated?” Raphael asked.

“It’s— I don’t think you’d want to know”, Aziraphale said instead of answering.

“Tell me”, Raphael insisted. “Please.”

Aziraphale looked like he was going to refuse, but then his expression hardened. “Death by guillotine”, he said. “It was the French Revolution, you see. Humans killing each other with clever machines. You should’ve seen the souls Hell secured throughout the Reign of Terror.”

“Oh, Aziraphale…” Raphael couldn’t help but feel bad. He had promised to never abandon Aziraphale, not when he was in danger. And yet, he had abandoned Aziraphale when he needed him most. And for what? Just a bunch of paperwork. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It was quick and painless, so I didn’t think you’d feel it”, Aziraphale said. “But, you see… My performance as a demon on Earth is rather poor, so Duke Hastur wanted me to stay Below. For two years, I tried to claw my way back here. I was… so, so terrified I’d never see you again…”

Aziraphale let out a sniff that shattered Raphael’s heart to pieces. Whoever this Duke Hastur was, he had to know better than to keep Raphael’s Soulmate away from him. Because if he couldn’t find Aziraphale when he returned to Earth, he would tear Heaven and Hell apart to be reunited with his Soulmate again.

Raphael gently wiped tears away from Aziraphale’s eye and, after considering for a beat, pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“You’re safe now, that’s all that matters”, he said. “And you don’t have to worry about being discorporated anymore, because that will never happen again, as long as I’m here.”

“Raphael, my dear…” Aziraphale choked out. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“No,Aziraphale. Listen to me, listen to me now”, Raphael said as he lifted Aziraphale’s hand and pressed kisses to his knuckles. “I will never leave you again. We shall never be separated again, you hear? You won’t be able to get rid of me, and that’s final.”

“What if Heaven calls you back? What if they want you somewhere away from me? What then?” Aziraphale asked, his voice breaking.

“Well, then”, Raphael decided, right there and then. “They have to deal with being down one Archangel from now on.”

Aziraphale let out a chuckle, but there was no humor in his voice. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious”, Raphael returned. “You told me that I am allowed to be selfish every now and then. Well, if being with my Soulmate is selfishness, then allow me to be incredibly selfish from now on.”

“Won’t Heaven be mad at you? Won’t they hurt you if they— if they find out? That you want to be with a— a common demon like me?” Aziraphale looked worried.

“They can’t be mad at me”, Raphael reassured. “I’m the Archangel  _ Fucking  _ Raphael, and I’d like to see them try to hurt me.”

Aziraphale let out a surprised laugh that pulled a smile out of Raphael. He pressed another kiss to Aziraphale’s knuckles, and when he lifted his head, he saw that Aziraphale was blushing up to his ears.

“I love you”, Raphael said, easy as breathing.

“I love you too, Raphael, my dear”, Aziraphale returned.


	15. London (1805 AD)

As he always had for the last four years, Raphael woke up with the sunrise. He didn’t need to sleep, obviously, but he found that he enjoyed sleeping with his Soulmate. There was a certain pleasure to sharing a bed with Aziraphale, a certain joy that he could only get from watching Aziraphale sleep when he woke up in the morning. He always woke up feeling refreshed and so very, very loved.

Sunlight spilled into their bedroom, bathing the room in golden color and making Aziraphale’s pale complexion seemed to glow. Raphael had known this for years, but it always mesmerized him to see how  _ beautiful _ his Soulmate was. The light seemed to emphasize Aziraphale’s softness, from the softness of his hair to the softness of his figure, and Raphael couldn’t resist himself.

As gently as he could, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple. White lashes fluttered open, and Raphael watched, a breath that he didn’t need stuck in his throat, as Aziraphale opened his eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine”, Raphael greeted, smile on his lips.

“Mmm. It seems I had a very pleasant dream where you kissed me”, Aziraphale said, his voice still rough from waking up.

“That wasn’t a dream”, Raphael told him, beaming, before leaning over and placed another kiss to the tip of Aziraphale’s nose.

Aziraphale blushed, but he smiled.

“Oh you”, he tutted. “What are you doing waking up so early?”

“I like watching you sleep?” Raphael asked back.

“Can’t I tempt you to go back to sleep?” Aziraphale returned, batting his eyelashes prettily.

“Hmm, I don’t know. You seem so beautiful this morning, that it’ll be a shame if I close my eyes again”, Raphael said with a smile.

“Flatterer”, Aziraphale pouted.

Raphael couldn’t resist himself and placed a quick peck to that pout.

“My love”, Raphael whispered. “My beloved. My sunshine. My Soulmate.”

“My dearest”, Aziraphale returned with a brief smile. His expression turned serious. “Don’t panic, but I just felt a demonic presence outside the bookshop now.”

Raphael blinked at the sudden change of topic, before realizing what Aziraphale had said. Then he groaned.

Aziraphale extricated himself from Raphael’s embrace, got up from the bed, and made his way downstairs. Not wanting to let his Soulmate face whoever came for him, Raphael followed closely behind. He still had a thought to get dressed in his usual dark-red clothes, at least — Aziraphale was still wearing his tartan pajamas. 

Now that Aziraphale mentioned it, Raphael could feel demonic aura emanating from outside the bookshop, far stronger than Aziraphale’s. It was sharp and smelled absolutely putrid, like something that was left to rot for awhile. As he walked to the front door, Aziraphale picked up a cane from the umbrella stand and brandished it like a sword.

Then, with a nod, he opened the front door.

“Well, well, well”, an unfamiliar demon drawled lazily, and Raphael held back the urge to cover his nose. The demon reeked of rot and sulfur. He was tall, perhaps as tall as Raphael, his white-blond hair a mess, and he had boils all over his face.

“Lord Hastur, what a pleasure”, Aziraphale smiled awkwardly. Huh, so this was the infamous Duke Hastur.

“If it isn’t Archangel Raphael, one of the Most Holy”, Duke Hastur said, ignoring Aziraphale’s greeting. He didn’t even deign Aziraphale a glance, and somehow Raphael was both glad and insulted at the same time. Glad, because if the demon was up to no good, it would be best that he kept his attention on Raphael. Insulted, because how dare someone ignore his amazing Soulmate.

“Greetings, Duke Hastur”, Raphael greeted with a too-sharp smile that showed his teeth. “I have heard many things about you.”

“Nothing good, I hope”, the Duke of Hell returned. “How does that work for you? Mucking around with a lowly demon. It’s odd that you haven’t Fallen yet.”

Next to him, Aziraphale stiffened up.

“Why would I Fall?” Raphael asked, tilting his head. “She gave me a Soulmate, and I love him the way She intended. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Hastur turned his gaze to Aziraphale. “Is this what you meant with tempting him away from Her Grace? It’s not working, is it? Just as I expected. Worthless demon.”

Anger rose in Raphael’s chest at the way Hastur spoke to Aziraphale. That was  _ his  _ Soulmate, damn it. No one spoke to his Soulmate like that.

“Now wait a second—” 

“Return to Hell immediately. You’ve been recalled, per Lord Beelzebub’s order and mine”, Hastur interrupted. Then, he made a move as if he was going to turn away.

“N-no!” Aziraphale stood firm, his face full of determination. “I’m not returning to Hell, not now, not ever!”

“It’s not your decision, you fetid bird”, Hastur growled.

“I’m staying with my Soulmate!” Aziraphale shouted back. “I love him, and you can’t make me leave!”

Raphael’s chest was filled with warmth. He’d never felt prouder of his Soulmate than in that moment.

“I said, return to Hell—”

When Hastur made a step forward, Raphael materialized all six of his wings and covered Aziraphale from the Duke of Hell’s sight. He was feeling rather merciful, considering how awful the demon had been treating his Soulmate for literal millennia. He didn’t even materialize his halo — now that would burn the duke with his radiance.

“He doesn’t want to go with you”, Raphael told him. “Leave now, before I smite you where you stand.”

Hastur eyed Raphael, head tilted sideways as if considering him, and Raphael returned his stare. Archangels were on the same level as the Princes of Hell, so Raphael was confident that he would win if Hastur decided to fight him.

But then Hastur summoned fire with his hand — and not just any fire, but  _ hellfire _ .

Well, damn. This would get ugly fast.

Raphael eyed a watering can sitting by a pot outside the bookshop, before grabbing it. Hastur used the distraction by charging ahead, his fist covered in hellfire. Fortunately, Raphael managed to dodge it. Instead, Hastur hit the pot, destroying it and burning the plant in it. 

While Hastur was still recoiling from his attack, Raphael quickly drew power from Above and murmured under his breath as he blessed the water still inside the watering can. Then, he brandished it towards the Duke of Hell, who was already turning to face Raphael, his fist raising. 

Hastur paused mid-attack and eyed the watering can.

“You wouldn’t”, Hastur taunted. “You’re not a warrior, are you, Lord’s Healer?”

“I guess we’ll see”, Raphael said almost too calmly. He would destroy Duke Hastur if he dared to touch his Soulmate, this he swore.

The Duke of Hell sneered, but he slunk away. Raphael watched until he sank to the ground, disappearing from their sights, before dematerializing his wings and turning to face Aziraphale fully.

“Are you alright?” Raphael asked.

“Y-yes. Absolutely dandy”, Aziraphale answered. He still looked rather shaken, and his eyes flicked to the burning plant. “O-oh dear!”

“Step back”, Raphael ordered, and Aziraphale did as he was told, stepping away from the fire. Raphael then dumped the contents of his watering can onto the plant, before miracling the mess away.

“I just told off Duke Hastur…” Aziraphale said faintly.

“Yeah, you did”, Raphael said, chest swelling from how proud he was of his Soulmate.

“I— I told off Duke Hastur”, Aziraphale said shakily, before a smile formed on his face. “I told him off… and said that I— I love you.”

“My brave Soulmate”, Raphael told Aziraphale, pulling him into the bookshop and shutting the door behind them.

“You’re the brave one”, Aziraphale said with a slight frown. “You fought him off… for me.”

“Damn right I did”, Raphael grumbled. “But you’re also brave, for standing up for yourself.”

“You know, he won’t quit just like that”, Aziraphale returned.

“Then we’ll need to make it clear that we are in love with each other and nothing can separate us now”, Raphael told Aziraphale, before placing a kiss on his Soulmate’s forehead. 

“Well, alright then”, Aziraphale said, blush spreading across his cheeks. He returned the kiss on Raphael’s cheek, and Raphael had never felt so happy and so loved in his long, long life before.

— 

If you went to one corner of Soho, London, you would find an antique bookshop ran by a very fine gentleman named Mr. Amos Z. Crowley, and his equally fine partner, Dr. Anthony Crowley. 

The bookshop was a cozy little place, with plants growing in pots along the bookshelves and hanging overhead. You were free to admire the lush plants. But if you were hoping to purchase any of the books, you would suddenly forget why you were there in the first place. Quite an odd thing, that bookshop was.

That was because Mr. Crowley was, in fact, a demon — whose real name was Crowy or Aziraphale, depending on who you were asking. A very dashing demon dressed in an icy white suit and tartan bowtie, but still a demon regardless. He collected old books and ancient manuscripts, and his bookshop was in fact a farce to keep all of his collection in one place.

Meanwhile, his partner, Dr. Crowley, was, in fact, an angel — whose real name was Archangel Raphael. An equally dashing angel dressed in dark red shirt and black coat. He worked at Westminster Hospital as a surgeon with one hundred percent success rate. People thought he was just so good at what he was doing.

Of course, no one knew that Mr. and Dr. Crowley were not, in fact, human, but you wouldn’t have known that. They kept that secret to themselves, and believe it or not, they were rather good at it. No one needed to know why this particular angel-demon couple had decided to live on Earth amongst the humans, and neither Mr. and Dr. Crowley cared about that. 

For them, all that mattered was that so they could live together in peace, undisturbed by other ethereal or occult beings.

That morning, people passing around the bookshop saw Mr. Crowley kissing Dr. Crowley and fussing over his tie. It was Monday and Dr. Crowley had an emergency patient waiting for him; but Mr. Crowley still loathed to let him go, despite this.

“Seriously, my dearest. How come your tie is always a mess?” Mr. Crowley said.

“Perhaps because you’re always pulling at— ngk?” Dr. Crowley returned, before Mr. Crowley shut him up with yet another kiss on the lips.

“Have fun at work”, Mr. Crowley said as he released his partner, waving cheerfully at him.

Dr. Crowley waved back, a smitten look clear on his face as he sauntered away.

Such a sweet little scene it was.

Little did they know that somewhere Up Above, God was devising something that would turn their life upside down once again.


End file.
